


That's alright with me

by xxawalkinwonderlandxx



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Age gap - She's 18 he's 23, Bellamy doesn’t think he’s a good guy (but he is lets be honest), Clarke can be very convincing, Clarke wants to piss off her parents, Clarke’s a virgin, Don't Like Don't Read, Drinking, F/M, Fake Dating, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Smoking, Some Fluff, a lot of Bellamy struggling internally lol, a lot of flirting, bed sharing, hand holding, honestly Bellamy never stood a chance, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:47:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26976856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxawalkinwonderlandxx/pseuds/xxawalkinwonderlandxx
Summary: Clarke wants to get out from under her parent's rules and expectations. Bellamy wasn't expecting to run into an 18-year-old at a 21 and over club, but he did, and now he can't seem to get rid of her. What possessed him to say yes to this arrangement in the first place he has no idea, but one thing is for sure: Clarke keeps it interesting
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 109
Kudos: 237





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song [18](https://youtu.be/_IHH2ibMjIQ) by Anarbor

Bellamy takes a long drag from his cigarette then tilts his head up and blows the smoke away from the group of people walking by. There isn’t anything exciting going on tonight, and since Murphy decided to ditch him for a girl not long after they got there, he doesn’t exactly have a reason to stick around. After the week he’s had, grabbing a drink and forgetting about all of the bullshit he’s had to deal with sounded good, but he’s not exactly wanting to spend the time and effort to get some company.

“Can I bum a cigarette?”

Bellamy looks over, and standing a few feet away from him is a pretty blonde looking at the cigarette in his hand. She doesn’t look like she would smoke, but he’s not one to judge so he pulls his pack out of his pocket and hands it to her, then he takes out his lighter and holds it up for her. She smiles at him around the cigarette then takes a puff from it, tilting her head up and blowing it away like he did.

“I can buy you a drink as payment.” She turns her blue eyes towards him, and Bellamy lets his run over her. Her hair is curled, her black dress is tight and doesn’t leave too much to the imagination except for the jacket she’s wearing over it, and her makeup is a little on the heavy side, like what Octavia wears to her school dances.

“Don’t worry about it.” The corner of Bellamy’s mouth turns up and he can see the girl take him in, too.

“That’s a shame,” the girl says, leaning against the wall next to him, “I could use a drinking partner.”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her. “I’m not looking to get trashed.”

“Me either.” She takes another drag of her cigarette and blows it away, turning back to look at him. “Maybe I’m just lonely.”

“And you think you’re doing me a favor by having me drink with you?”

The corner of her mouth turns up. “Well, you looked pretty lonely until I came up.”

“Alright.” Bellamy takes one last puff of his cigarette then puts it out on the brick wall, and the girl smirks as she knocks the embers off her cigarette then puts it in her jacket pocket. He leads the way to the front door of the bar and the girl hands her I.D. over to the bouncer and they motion for her to go in. Bellamy nods his head at the guys then follows the girl inside, taking the stool next to her.

In the yellow bar light, Bellamy can see the girl’s face better. She looks like she could be younger than twenty-one, and he doesn’t miss the way her nails look like they just got done, or how she holds herself. He’s worked for people who look like her most of his life, but his experience with them doesn’t mean he can’t see what this girl wants from him. She smiles sweetly at the bartender and hands over a platinum card when asked if she wants to open a tab.

Bellamy waits as she finishes up the transaction and slides his beer over to him when it gets set down, then smiles at him before taking a sip of hers. He raises it to her before he takes a sip, too, then he leans onto the bar and she sets her glass down.

“What’s your name?”

“Clarke.”

“Clarke,” he repeats, and the corners of her mouth turn up. “I’m Bellamy.”

“I like it.” She leans onto the bar, too, and moves towards him a little, her blue eyes sparking in the dim light. “So, what are you doing here alone?” Her voice is deeper than he would have expected when he first looked at her, but Bellamy can’t say that he minds.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Friends ditched me at the last minute,” she lifts a shoulder and takes another sip of her drink, “I was already dressed.”

“Seems like both of us have flakey friends.” Bellamy takes another sip, too, and Clarke holds her glass out.

“To better company.”

Bellamy smirks. “To better company.”

The two of them sip on their beers in silence for a few moments, but Bellamy pretends not to notice that she’s checking him out. He’s used to it at this point, but when he turns to look at her she looks away, her pale cheeks turning pink in the bar light. The sight pulls a smile onto his lips and he leans onto the bar.

“Do you come here often?”

“Really? _That’s_ what you go with?” She laughs, deep and sweet.

“It’s a good question. I’m curious.”

“No, I don’t.” Clarke props her head up in her hand. “It’s my first time.” Bellamy hums, and takes another sip of his drink. “Do you?”

“More than I care to admit.”

The girl raises an eyebrow at him, but she doesn’t look like she’s judging him. The corner of her mouth turns up as she turns her attention back to her beer. She’s different than most of the other girls he’s been around, where they know what they want and usually aren’t shy about getting him to realize it, Clarke hasn’t done anything that suggestive. Yet.

“What do you do?”

“I work construction. It’s hard work but—”

“Rewarding?” She finishes, and the corner of Bellamy’s mouth turns up.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Have you done any big projects lately?”

“We just finished building a new firm, the one—”

“On Main?”

“Yeah, you know it?”

“I drove by almost every day,” she smirks, “were you one of the ones without a shirt on?”

“Sometimes.” He chuckles. “Why? Got a thing for sweaty, shirtless men?”

Her smirk doesn’t falter as she brings her glass up to her lips, but the pink from earlier returns. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Bellamy’s smile widens as he watches her, and once she’s put her empty glass down, he takes it as his chance to finish his beer off, too.

“Dance with me.” She slides off the stool and looks up at him, but Bellamy shakes his head.

“No, I don’t dance.”

“Come on.” She places her hands on his knee. “You’re supposed to be keeping me company remember?” When he just smirks at her, she pouts slightly before straightening and shrugging off her jacket and handing it to him. “Fine, you can watch.”

She winks at him before she turns around and Bellamy leans against the counter as he watches her walk towards the throng of people. He’s lost count at the amount of times he’s been asked to dance, but none of them were confident enough to tell him to watch. She sways her hips as she goes, then she turns around and looks at him before moving a little more into the crowd. He turns and motions for another beer before looking back at her, and then he can’t seem to stop.

Her arms are up as she moves and when she looks at him, Bellamy feels like he’s stuck in his seat. Her blue eyes are piercing as she looks at him, and he brings his beer up to his lips to take a sip as her tongue comes out to wet hers. _She’s not playing, is she?_ He clears his throat, shifting in his seat as she twirls around and he tries to look away from her, but he really can’t. She’s captivating.

He’s not sure how long she dances, but then she’s there sliding back onto the stool next to him as she motions for another beer herself, and she turns towards him. There’s sweat on her temples now and her chest rises and falls quickly as she leans onto the bar and takes a sip of her beer. _I’ve really gotten myself into something, haven’t I?_ Bellamy pulls at the sleeves of his shirt, pushing them up to his elbows and he watches as Clarke’s eyes run over his right forearm.

“I like your tattoos.” She leans towards him, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “It’s so detailed.”

“Best tattoo artist in Arkadia,” he says, looking down at his arm, too. “It took a while, but it was worth it.”

“What’s it of?” She reaches out and wraps her hand around his wrist as she turns his arm over, and Bellamy marvels at how small her hand is compared to his. “Is that the Parthenon?”

“Yeah.” He takes another sip of his beer. “My sleeve revolves around Ancient Greece. I have Artemis on my shoulder.”

Clarke hums, her eyes still looking over the pictures on his skin, and then she sits up and lets her hand linger on his wrist before she pulls it away. “What’s the chance I’ll be able to see all of it?”

 _There it is_. Bellamy smirks. “Depends on how good of company you are.”

She smirks at him, and suddenly the idea of leaving with someone doesn’t seem as out of reach but, then again, that changed as soon as she asked for a cigarette.

They don’t leave immediately, both seemingly content to stay at the bar and talk while the beers keep coming, but Bellamy would be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting to get her out of here. They could pick up their conversation somewhere else, but he’s not exactly one to try and stay until the bar closes. He feels like he’s too old for that at this point and after the week he’s had, he’s beat.

But, still, he asks her what she does and she tells him that she’s taking a year off from college, and when he asks what she’s studying she tells him art. Which makes sense given how she looked at his tattoos. When he brings up his little sister Clarke asks how old she is, and when he tells her she’s sixteen her eyebrows arch towards the ceiling before asking how old he is. He figures he’s about two years older than her, since she said that coming here was her first time but still, something about her reaction raises a question mark in his mind. But, that goes away when a fourth beer gets brought, and then he’s pulled back into the conversation about the upcoming presidential election and he doesn’t even realize how they got on that topic. But, he likes talking to her, and he’s pretty sure this is the most he’s talked to anyone he’s going to hook-up with in a while.

“So,” he says as he puts down his empty bottle, and Clarke’s eyes spark as she looks at him.

“Want to get out of here?”

“You read my mind.”

She smiles at him before she closes out the tab, and he watches as she signs her name with a flourish. Despite his insistence that he could buy some of the drinks she always waved him off, which only led him to wonder how she could afford a night out when she didn’t mention having a job.

He places his hand on her lower back as they walk out of the building and she looks both ways before turning her head up to him. “Your place or mine?”

Maybe it’s the alcohol in his system, but he can’t help but smile when she asks. “Whatever you want to do.”

“Well, I don’t want to drive and my place is like fifteen minutes away.”

“Okay,” Bellamy says, pulling out his phone. “I’ll call an Uber and we’ll go back to mine.”

“Okay.” Clarke bites at her bottom lip and looks at his phone, but then she looks down the road before turning back to him. “Can we stop by my car? I need to grab my purse.”

“Sure.”

Once the Uber is ordered, Bellamy wraps his arm around her shoulders and she huddles into his side, though it seems like she’s shivering. It’s weird, since he was burning up inside the bar and it’s not that cold outside, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s when he’s looking for an older car that a silver Audi’s lights flash and Clarke moves out from under his arm and walks towards it.

 _So, she does have money_. When he was younger, he remembers telling his mom he wanted a car like this as his sixteenth birthday present, but he knew he’d never be able to afford it. Even now, his job pays really well but not enough to where he could justify getting a car like _this_. Clarke opens the passenger side door and leans in, grabbing something from the floorboard before opening her glovebox and then putting something in her purse. Her cheeks turn an even deeper pink when she turns and looks at him, but then she’s shutting and locking her door.

“The Uber should be here in a couple of minutes.”

“Okay.” She smiles up at him, and Bellamy holds out his hand before they walk back towards the doors of the club. Usually, he wouldn’t mind driving back to his place since it’s not far, but he ended up carpooling with Murphy and Murphy’s the one who left him.

When they’re back at the front, Clarke leans against the wall and Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her, but he doesn’t hesitate when she pulls on his hand and brings him closer. “You know, we’re supposed to be going back to your place but you haven’t even kissed me yet.”

Her eyes flick from his to his lips and back again, and Bellamy leans his free hand on the wall, arching over her. “I didn’t realize there were guidelines.”

“My guidelines.” She smiles softly as she says it, and Bellamy can’t help the way the corners of his mouth turns up before he leans in closer.

Her mascara has flaked off under her eyes a little and the lipstick she was wearing is gone now, but none of that matters because when they’re lips finally touch the air feels like it’s been knocked from his body. Her mouth is soft against his, and she’s the one who slips her tongue into his mouth before trying to pull him closer. It’s not the cleanest kiss he’s ever had, but neither were a lot of his others.

When they pull apart, her eyes are wide as she looks up at him, almost to the point where Bellamy would say she looked nervous, but then his phone vibrates with the message that they’re Uber is pulling up and he pushes off the wall. She smiles at him as he runs his thumb over the back of her hand, and then he leads her towards the Uber before opening the door for her. Once they’re both in the backseat, he takes a second to look at her as she watches her car go by, a thought nagging at the back of his mind.

Neither of them say anything during the ride, but her hand never leaves his until it’s time for them to get out. She doesn’t wait for him to open her door, but he’s there with his hand out once he tells the driver thank you, and she smiles again as she takes it. Once they’re in the door, Bellamy leads her towards the elevators and she doesn’t protest when he pulls her closer. In fact, she’s the one who positions herself in front of him and presses her ass into the growing bulge in his pants.

Bellamy holds her tighter as he ducks his head, kissing her cheek and then her jaw, and as she tilts her head to the side to give him better access the elevator dings at his floor. He wastes no time guiding her towards his door and as he tries to unlock it, he can feel Clarke’s hand run over his lower stomach, just over the waistband of his jeans.

“At least let me get the door open,” he says, teasing, and he’s rewarded with a sweet giggle that shouldn’t make him smile as much as he is.

Once they’re inside, he kicks the door shut before he crowds her against the wall, and she bites at her bottom lip before pulling him towards her. Her bag drops to the floor and her hands come up, tangling in his hair as he presses himself into her more but, still, the shivering from earlier is back and he pulls away slightly, looking down at her.

“We don’t have to do this,” he whispers, and she gives him a quick peck.

“I want to.” She’s firm as she says it, and she tilts her head up and their lips brush together, but there’s something in the back of his mind that has him pulling back slightly again. Her pupils are blown and her eyes look a little glassy, but he’s sure he looks the same. 

“How old are you?” The question is out before he can register that that was what he was going to ask, and then it hangs between them like a weight.

Clarke swallows, her eyes moving from his to his lips and back again. “Eighteen.” 

“Jesus Christ.” Bellamy rests his head on her shoulder. 

“I’m legal,” she says, but the wavering in her voice doesn’t do anything to dispel the knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m five years older than you,” he says, pulling back to look at her.

“So?”

“It’s not right. You’re drunk—”

“I’m not drunk but if that’s what you were really worried about we wouldn’t be here right now,” she bites back and, well, he can’t exactly argue with that.

“That’s not—” he shakes his head, pressing his hands against the wall and moving his body away from her. “With the way you’ve acted tonight, have you had sex before?”

She swallows again. “Not exactly.”

“That’s a yes or no question, Clarke.” He raises an eyebrow at her then pushes away, running a hand through his hair. “Why would you even go to a 21 or over bar? There are plenty that you would be allowed in.”

“I wanted to drink and I can’t do that any of those places.”

“You have a fake I.D.! I’m sure you could’ve gone to one a lot closer to your house than driving fifteen minutes to that one.”

“I don’t see what the big deal is! You were ready to fuck me not even ten seconds ago and now you’re scolding me like I’m some child who just stuck their hand in the cookie jar!” She glares at him.

 _How the fuck is this happening_. He runs a had over his face, suppressing the groan that’s trying to build within him, and willing his boner to go away. She’s hot, and he’s _very_ attracted to her, but he can’t bring himself to sleep with someone who’s five years younger than him _and_ take their virginity. _Not to mention we’ve both probably had a little too much to drink._

“God, the room is spinning.”

He looks up and Clarke has her hand pressed to her forehead with her eyes closed. Bellamy can feel himself deflate as he looks at her. Despite the internal struggle that’s going on within him right now, he knows he can’t let her leave like this. Where would she go? It’s not like she can drive home and he’s not exactly comfortable with the idea of putting her in an Uber and letting them take her home when he doesn’t have any way to check up on her.

“Come on, I’ll put you in bed.”

She opens her eyes, still glaring. “No thanks.”

“It’s late, you’re tired, and I can’t drive you home and I don’t want you to get sick without someone there to take care of you. You can sleep in my bed and I’ll take the couch.”

He watches as all of the bravado that was in her dissipates, and she slouches against the wall before nodding her head. “Thank you,” he sighs, and then he walks forward and picks her up in his arms.

He doesn’t exactly have anything for her to change into that would fit, but he knows that she probably doesn’t want to sleep in a dress that can _not_ be comfortable. He toes open the door to his room and walks towards the bed, setting her down on it and she looks up at him.

“Hell of a night, right?” She rolls her eyes, but then her hand is back on her forehead and he kneels in front of her.

“What hurts?”

“It’s only my head.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it, and he realizes that she must be embarrassed.

“I’ll get you some ibuprofen and you can change.”

“I don’t have any other clothes.”

“I know.” Bellamy stands and walks towards his dresser, pulling out an old faded Ramones t-shirt and then a pair of gray sweatpants. “You can borrow some of mine.”

He hands them off to her and she still doesn’t look up at him, but he can hear a soft “Thank you” as he heads towards the bedroom door.

“No problem.”

It doesn’t take him long to get the medicine, but he still waits a couple of minutes before he knocks on his bedroom door, and she calls for him to come in. She’s buried under his blankets now, but she sits up a little when he holds out the ibuprofen and a bottle of water.

“I’m sorry that this night went south,” she mumbles, throwing the pills in her mouth then washing them down. “What gave me away?”

“Uh…” Bellamy runs a hand over the back of his neck, peeking at her through his eyelashes. “Would you hate me if I said it was the inexperience?”

Clarke snorts. “No, it makes sense. It hurts, but it makes sense.”

He can see the darkness under her eyes better now that she’s in the lamp light, and his heart aches for her. He doesn’t know what possessed her to choose tonight as her night to try and get laid, or why she chose him to be the one to do it, and he may never find that out, but for now, what he does know is that he wants to take care of her. It may not be in the way he was originally thinking, but still.

“Try and get some sleep,” he says softly, and Clarke nods her head. “I’ll be out in the living room so if you need me then—”

“I’ll come to you.”

“Okay.” The two of them don’t say anything for a moment, but she still doesn’t look up at him. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Clarke huddles back under the covers and rolls on her side, and then Bellamy reaches over and turns off the lamp on the nightstand before making his way towards the door.

 _Yeah. Hell of a night_.

He sighs as he walks towards the living room, deciding he’ll just grab a shirt and some shorts out of the laundry basket he hasn’t gotten around to emptying yet, when he remembers her purse on the floor. He picks it up from the door and walks towards the kitchen island and sets it down. Then, he stares at it. The thoughts of going through it to figure out more about her runs through his mind, but he pushes it away as fast as it comes. He doesn’t need to know more about her. Come tomorrow, he’ll make her breakfast and then bring her back to get her car and that will be that.

Bellamy tells himself that over and over again as he changes, and even more once he lays down on the couch and flips to one of the movie channels. This night might not have gone how he expected it to, but he’s not mad about how it ended.

Nope. He’s not mad at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Ideas? I love hearing from you!!
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after

When Bellamy wakes up the following morning there isn’t any sunlight coming into the room, and when he turns to look at the window he can see that the sun hasn’t even begun to rise. He sighs and rolls over, hugging one of the couch pillows to his chest as he listens to the cars moving outside. For a moment, the fact that he has a girl in his bed escapes his mind but when he remembers his eyes pop open. _How could I forget?_

He doesn’t remember if he was dreaming before he woke up, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t. He’s been dead to the world this week anytime he falls asleep when otherwise he wouldn’t be such a heavy sleeper. _Should I go check on her?_ He entertains the thought for a moment, but then her comment about him treating her like a little kid makes him sink further into the couch, closing his eyes again. _She just had a headache_. He slows his breathing and finds that he’s trying to see if he can hear anything coming from the room on the other side of the wall, but he can’t hear anything. _Yeah, she’s fine_.

Then, after a moment, he can feel his body wanting to go back to sleep and he lets it take him away.

~

The second time Bellamy wakes up, the sun is high in the sky and he’s pretty sure this is the first time he’s slept _this_ late in a while. But he’s not exactly surprised, since going back to sleep usually leads to sleeping in a lot longer than expected. He rolls onto his back, running a hand through his hair as he yawns. This time, the fact that Clarke is sleeping in his bedroom is there without him having to think about it, and he picks up his phone to look at the time.

It’s only 10am, so it’s not like it’s super late, but he doesn’t know how long she’s going to sleep. With Octavia, he knows she can sleep until noon without any trouble, but he doesn’t know what Clarke is like. He also doesn’t know what she likes to eat for breakfast, but he’s sure he can figure something out. Taking a deep breath, Bellamy kicks back the blanket and stands, stretching out as he yawns for a second time. He looks at the clock again and then towards his hamper of clean clothes. _I should have time for a shower_. 

Even though he changed into different clothes before he fell asleep, he can still smell the bar on him and it’s not one he likes. So, without much thought, he grabs a change of underwear and a clean pair of jeans and makes his way into his bathroom, closing the door as softly as he can behind him. While he showers, he thinks about the food that he can cook that he hopes she’ll eat, but it’s when he’s drying off that he hopes she hasn’t tried to leave yet. He can’t blame her, since she doesn’t know him, but he could at least give her a ride to her car.

When he’s dressed, he tiptoes across the hall to the bedroom and knocks softly before he opens it a little. Immediately, he can hear a soft noise coming from under the covers and the corner of his mouth turns up before he closes the door again. _So, she didn’t leave_. The thought relaxes him and Bellamy pads his way into the kitchen, opening the door to the fridge. He doesn’t have _a lot_ in the way of food, but he has enough where he can make them something to eat. Biscuits keep for a while and he can throw the bacon in some water to thaw it out, and if there’s anything he always remembers to get, it’s eggs. 

Bellamy is silent as he works, preheating the oven and washing a pan that he needs before he checks the bacon to see if it’s ready to be cooked. After drinking and not having much to eat, at least he didn’t see her eat anything, he hopes that she’s able to eat something. _Unless she has a hangover_. Bellamy takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before he moves to spread the biscuits out onto the pan, and then there’s a noise.

It’s faint, but then his eyes find Clarke’s purse on the counter. It’s a soft vibrating noise and he realizes that someone must be trying to call her so, wiping his hands on his pants, he pulls her purse over and looks into it. The light from the phone screen lights up the inside of the bag and Bellamy raises an eyebrow at its contents. Makeup wipes, a condom, a small pack of lube, Plan B, a wallet, and her phone. It’s not much, and with what she was planning on doing the night before it’s understandable, but he’s surprised she was this prepared. 

The phone stops ringing before he can reach it, but he still picks it up and looks at who the caller was.

_5 Missed Calls: Mom_

_8 Text Messages: Mom_

_1 Missed Call: Dad_

_Dad_ _  
_ _Hey, sweetie. Call me when you wake up_

He doesn’t try to look at the other text messages, but he notices that her phone is on 3% so he pulls it out of the bag completely and walks over to the phone charger he has beside the couch and plugs it in. He’ll make sure to tell her that she probably needs to call her parents, but the fact that her mom is trying to get in touch with her this much only hits home the fact that she’s still young. _I can’t believe she’s only 18_. 

It’s not that he has a problem with her age, necessarily, but to have someone her age come to a bar she shouldn’t have even been able to get into in the first place to try and get laid, not to mention that she’s—Bellamy’s jaw clenches when he thinks of the fact that she hasn’t been with anyone else, and he shakes his head as he heads back to the breakfast food. _How could she just think that someone at a random bar would be a good choice to take her virginity?_ He sighs, tearing open the pack of bacon as the oven sounds that it’s done preheating. _Why the fuck did she choose me?_

Of course, he would like to know why it was him, but he’s not entirely sure if he wants to hear the answer. It can’t be a bad answer, since she felt like she could trust him—well, at least he hopes that one of the reasons—but he was _so close_ to moving them to the bedroom and if he’s being honest he still wants to. _She’s only two years older than Octavia_ , he reminds himself, and, yeah, that does it. Any wayward thoughts he was beginning to have disappears and he feels like he can breathe easier again.

_Just think of her as one of Octavia’s friends._ He nods to himself. _That shouldn’t be too hard. Right?_ He puts the biscuits into the oven and sets a timer before he begins heating up a skillet, then he glances towards the clock to see how long it’s been since he woke up.

_It wouldn’t be hard if you didn’t like having your tongue in her mouth_.

Bellamy looks up at the ceiling and sighs heavily. He knows he’s attracted to her, but like he told himself last night, he’ll make her breakfast then bring her to her car and that will be that.

After all, she lives on the other side of the city and it seems like she’s still living with her parents so it seems to be working itself out. He begins to place the bacon down on the skillet and it immediately sizzles and pops before he turns the heat down and places even more pieces down. He scowls at the grease that pops onto his hands and forearms, then he backs up and lets the bacon cook before he pulls the eggs out of the fridge, too. 

“Something smells good.”

Clarke’s voice startles him more than he expected it to, but he’s not really used to having someone else in his house in the morning. When he looks up, Clarke’s arms are crossed over her chest and she still looks tired, but she also looks like she’s trying to make herself as small as she can. But that’s understandable since she looked so embarrassed last night.

“I—uh,” Bellamy glances from the eggs to her, “I don’t know what you like to eat but I have biscuits, eggs, and bacon.”

“Do you have cheese?” Her eyes widen slightly when she asks and Bellamy finds himself incapable of looking away from her. Her blue eyes are a lot brighter in the sunlight, more piercing, and he feels like they’re staring into him. 

“Yeah, I have a few slices left.”

He watches as she smiles a little and walks towards him, still hugging herself. She looks from the eggs in his hands to the oven behind him, then her eyes settle on his face again and a bright blush appears on her cheeks.

“Thanks again for taking care of me.”

“No problem.” Bellamy smiles at her a little, hoping she doesn’t find him intimidating now that it’s the next day and they’re in the daylight. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m not sick. So, there’s that.” Clarke sighs as she pulls out one of the stools and sits on it, leaning her elbows on the bar. She presses her lips together as she looks up at him, but when she finds that he’s already looking at her she looks away, pushing at the cuticles on her fingers. “I know that my plan probably wasn’t the best, but...I don’t know.” She sighs again.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Bellamy cracks open one of the eggs, and then another, then he turns around and flips the bacon. “I get if you wanted to get it over with, but I can’t say I agree with the way you went about it.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

He can’t see her face as she talks, but her voice pulls at something in him. “I plugged your phone up by the couch,” he calls over his shoulder. “Your mom seems like she wants to talk.”

“Of course, she does.” 

Bellamy turns around in time to see Clarke roll her eyes, and despite the situation it pulls a small smile on his face. She hops off the stool and walks over to her phone, picking it up and then swiping on the screen before typing out a message. But, she doesn’t stay there long before she’s back at the bar across from him. 

He’s not sure what to do in this situation exactly. They talked a lot last night, for three hours if he remembers correctly, and he liked talking to her— _really_ liked it—but for some reason seeing her sitting across from him in his clothes has him incapable of coming up with anything to say. And just seeing her in his clothes is enough to have his mind wandering again and Bellamy takes a silent, deep breath before he turns his attention back to the eggs.

“How do you like your eggs?”

“Um, can I have them scrambled please?” Her voice is soft as she says it, and Bellamy has to keep himself focused on the eggs so he doesn’t look at her.

“I think I can do that.” He smiles a little again, and when he looks up slightly he likes the fact that she seems to be smiling a little, too.

As he works, they don’t say much, but when the timer for the biscuits goes off it’s Clarke who gets up and pulls them out of the oven, and she seems shy as she looks up at him through her eyelashes. _Where’s the girl from last night?_ He wants to ask her if she’s okay again, but he feels like that might be a stupid question. Obviously she’s physically okay, but he can’t help but wonder if he did something to hurt her. _Well, you did refuse to sleep with her and called her inexperienced_. 

Once the food is put on two plates, Bellamy sets one of the plates down in front of the stool that she was sitting on and then he moves to the one beside her. She smiles softly at him as he sits down and Bellamy tries not to look at her too much as they begin to eat, but he watches her cut her biscuit open and put the bacon and eggs onto it before topping it with cheese and he finds that he wants to do that, too.

“This is really good,” she mumbles, wiping at the corners of her mouth. “I was starving.”

“I’m glad you like it. I don’t have much, but I hope it’s enough.” The corner of Bellamy’s mouth turns up as he takes a bite of his biscuit sandwich.

“It is.” She nods her head, looking from him to her biscuit. “Thanks, for breakfast.”

“Like I said, it’s no problem.”

The air seems to change around them, and he’s pretty sure Clarke relaxes in her seat a little more the more they eat. He can’t imagine what she must be feeling, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t want to know. The situation is weird, to say the least, but he doesn’t want her to leave without getting some sort of closure. _Can you even have closure with something like this?_

The sound of a phone vibrating cuts through the air and Clarke rolls her eyes for a second time before she gets up and walks over to where her phone is still charging. Bellamy tries not to watch her, but he can’t help but wonder if it’s her mom again and if it is, what she’ll tell her. He’s not sure what her relationship is like with her parents, but it doesn’t seem that good if he’s being honest.

“Hello?” She grumbles, and Bellamy can hear her mom talking on the other end. “I’m eating breakfast, I would’ve called after I was done.” Bellamy finishes up the last bite of his biscuit then moves to rinse off his plate, trying to busy himself so he’s not just sitting there listening to the conversation. “I’m at Wells’.”

_Who’s Wells?_

“Then that just means I don’t think it’s any of your business,” she huffs, and Bellamy can’t help the smirk that makes its way onto his face. _Busted_. “No, I’m not sending you my location.” At that, Bellamy looks over at her only to find her already looking at him, worrying at her bottom lip. “Because, it’s not important. Look, is there a reason you’re calling? Or can I go? We don’t have midterm grades yet, it’s only September.”

_So, I guess she’s not taking a year off from college._ But, he shouldn’t be surprised. She did lie about her age. 

“Nope, I’m not listening to this anymore. Bye.” And with that, she ends the call before throwing her phone down on his couch with a grunt.

“That bad, huh?” He raises an eyebrow in her direction, and Clarke’s arms move from crossed over her chest to resting on her head, and Bellamy realizes that she’s _definitely_ not wearing a bra. _How_ he didn’t notice earlier he has no idea, but now he knows and he bites the inside of his cheek before he turns his attention back to the dishes.

“She wants to know where I am at all hours of the day and I just don’t want to do that,” Clarke groans. “Not to mention she wants to know what my grades are every month and I have to send her my class schedule so if she sees me on Facebook or something she can message me and tell me that I need to be paying attention.”

“She sounds like a real helicopter parent.” Bellamy glances at her, but her moving her arms only makes it even more apparent that she’s not wearing a bra, so he turns around and pulls a plastic ziploc bag out of the cabinet to start putting away the biscuits.

“Oh, that’s not even all of it.” Clarke chuckles, but the exasperation in her voice is apparent. Growing up, Bellamy’s mom didn’t hover over him like hers seems to, but his wasn’t exactly around very much to begin with. 

Though, he doesn’t blame her for that.

“My mom has a tracker on my car, too. That’s why she freaked out and decided to blow up my phone.”

“If she can track your car then why did you tell her you were at someone else’s place?”

“Because she said that if I was eating breakfast this late then I must not have driven my car anywhere after last night. I thought Wells would be a safe bet, but apparently she’s already talked to Jaha and he told her that I wasn’t there.” Clarke sighs, long and deep, and Bellamy can hear her fall back onto the couch. “Was your mom ever like this?”

Bellamy snorts. “Not by a long shot.”

“Figures.”

It’s almost like Bellamy can tell that Clarke is silently stewing in the living room while he picks up, but as he works he begins to understand what was probably going through her head when she decided to show up at the bar last night. _Overprotective parents lead to really rebellious kids_. He knew a few kids who he went to high school with that went nuts after they moved out of their parents’ houses because they were forced to live by their parents’ rules and expectations. From his experience, it never ended well. 

Once the dishes are rinsed and the food is put up, Bellamy dries his hands off on a towel and looks over at Clarke. She’s sitting on his couch cross-legged looking around his apartment, but she must seem to notice him looking at her because she turns her blue eyes towards him and smiles softly. He wishes it wouldn’t make him want to smile as much as it does, but he really can’t help it.

“Um,” he reaches up, running his hand over the back of his neck, “do you want to shower or anything? Or if you want I can drive you back to your car. Whenever you’re ready.”

He knows it’s what has to be done, but the way Clarke deflates as she looks at him, the corners of her mouth turning down and her eyes moving away from looking at him directly, doesn’t make him feel good about it. 

“Oh, yeah. A ride to my car would be good.” She looks down at the clothes she’s wearing, thumbing at the hem of the t-shirt. “I should go change.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The words are out of his mouth before he can realize what exactly he’s telling her, and Clarke looks up at him, her eyebrows arching slightly. “If you don’t want to change back into your dress,” he adds, but that doesn’t stop him from silently cursing himself because of it. 

_I shouldn’t have done that_. 

“Are you sure?”

_Well, I can’t go back on it now, can I?_

“I mean, I really don’t want to change back into my dress but I don’t want to put you out. You’ve already done enough for me.”

At this point, Bellamy knows he needs to dig his heels in and stand by what he said, so… “Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t worry about it.”

Her smile comes back a little then, and Bellamy suddenly doesn’t really care about losing his clothes.

~

When they’re in the truck, Bellamy waits until Clarke is buckled in before he backs out of his parking spot, and then he turns and heads in the direction of the bar. He can see Clarke looking at everything they pass as they make their way down the road, and then there’s something in him that doesn’t want to drop her off just yet. The feeling startles him and he readjusts his grip on the steering wheel. 

He knows that it would be best to just not have any contact with her after this, but he _really_ liked talking to her. She’s funny, and smart, and she surprised him when they were at the bar. Maybe they could be friends, if he didn’t feel like it was going to end badly. Well, not _badly_ , necessarily, but he doesn’t feel like them being around each other would be what’s for the best. She needs time to deal with her parents and figure out what she wants to do with her life, and he feels like he’s the last person she should be thinking about. 

“Why me?” For the second time within an hour, words have the ability to slip through Bellamy’s lips before he can register what they are.

“What?” Clarke looks towards him, her eyes a little wide, and Bellamy glances at her.

“What made you choose me last night?”

“Um…” Clarke shifts in the seat beside him and Bellamy forces himself to not look over at her. “I’m not sure,” she says softly. “I was walking up to the bar and I was nervous, but then I saw you and I just...I don’t know. I was second-guessing my plan when I asked you for a cigarette and then you smiled at me and I thought that I could at least get to know you even if I didn’t have the guts to go through with it.” He watches as she ducks her head, playing with the strap of her purse. “I felt comfortable.”

Bellamy’s not entirely sure how to respond to that. He likes her smile, too, but he can’t exactly tell her that he was thinking that he was thinking he could actually leave with someone when she showed up. She was second-guessing losing her virginity and he realized he might not have to spend as much energy to get laid. He _definitely_ can’t tell her that.

“I’m glad I could make you feel better,” he says softly. “And I’m sorry if I upset you last night.”

“You didn’t upset me.” Clarke looks over at him then. “I was just really embarrassed because I—” she stops talking, closing her mouth and Bellamy can see her cheeks turn pink again. “I just felt ridiculous.”

Bellamy pulls up behind her car all too soon and then he puts his truck in park, turning in his seat to look at her. “You shouldn’t feel embarrassed about wanting to lose your virginity, but I don’t think you should try and get some random person from a bar to be the one to do it. Especially when they don’t know the truth. You could get hurt.”

The blush on Clarke’s cheeks deepen and she nods her head. “Yeah, I know,” she whispers. Then, she leans back against the seat, her head turning to look at him as it rests on the cushion. 

They look at each other for a moment, and Bellamy’s eyes find her lips for a brief second before he looks away then back at her eyes. “I know it’s not my place, but try and be more careful. Okay?”

Clarke bites at her bottom lip, nodding her head again. “Okay. I promise.”

And this is it. She’s going to get out of his truck and into her car and go home—wherever home is—and that will be that. _It’s for the best, after all._ He wants to reach out and pull her towards him, just one last kiss, but he knows he shouldn’t. Last night, it took everything in him not to do what she wanted, and he can’t go through that again. _Not right now. Not_ —

Clarke leans over the console and kisses his cheek, and when she pulls back she smiles at him a little which only makes his heart race more. Their eyes meet, and Bellamy could swear he can imagine what their night would have been like if he hadn’t stopped it. He doesn’t want to think about it, but he does, and he can’t take that back.

“Bye, Bellamy.”

_Fuck_.

“Bye, Clarke.” 

Another beat passes, but then the passenger door is opening and she’s sliding out of his truck, and he watches as she unlocks her car and opens the driver door. She turns, waving at him a little, and he waves back before she gets in. He waits until she’s out of the spot and on the road, and he has to force himself to look in his side mirror to see if there’s anyone coming before he pulls out into the road and makes a u-turn, heading back to his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say I really appreciate all of the love that this fic has received so far <3 And I love hearing from all of you!!
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	3. Chapter 3

The day Bellamy dropped Clarke off at her car, he went to the store and got groceries and then went about his weekend like he usually does: playing video games with whoever decides to come over and drinking. Except, when he laid down in his bed that night he was pretty sure he could smell green apple shampoo. Either he actually was smelling it or he drank more than he thought. Needless to say, that Sunday he washed his sheets and tried not to remember the fact that he was now down a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

Then, he went on with his life. He woke up Monday, talked to his boss, picked up a check, went to his mom’s and checked out the weird sound that she said her car was making, took Octavia out for ice cream, stayed for dinner, went back home and watched T.V. until he went to sleep. Tuesday, he ran a few errands, like picking up the laundry from his mom’s and bringing them back to his place so he could wash them, and then went and ordered a washer and dryer from Lowe’s for her to be delivered to her house that Saturday. 

The same thing happened for the rest of the week, and then the week after that, giving him the ability to keep busy without thinking about Clarke. And he didn’t think about her for the most part. During the day, his mind was usually preoccupied with what he needed to get done, and even then his mind kept running through lists while he was working, but at night...nighttime was when he found himself thinking about her. He really tried not to, but there’s only so much fighting with himself he can do before it begins to get tiring.

It’s when he’s laying in bed trying to go to sleep that he can see her eyes on the backs of his eyelids, feel her hand in his, hear her giggling as he tries to open the door...He shouldn’t be this affected by her, especially since he was around her less than twenty-four hours and they didn’t even _do_ anything. _I’m just worried about her_. She told him that she’d be more careful, and he wants to believe that she would be, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking about it. _It’s the same with Octavia. What if she went out to bars?_ _That_ thought doesn’t sit well with him either, and it usually just resulted in him getting even more upset. 

Now, two weeks after that night with Clarke, Jasper and Monty decide to come over with Murphy and Miller, and the five of them sit around his living room sharing a fifth while they watch  _ Robin Hood _ , and Bellamy can feel himself beginning to relax. He doesn’t think about work, or the things he needs to help his mom with, or the shirt and sweatpants he knows he’s missing, no. He doesn’t think about any of it as he taps Monty on the shoulder and motions for him to hand the bottle over.

None of his friends know about Clarke, and that’s how he wants it to stay. If they knew, he knows that someone, probably Murphy, would make jokes about it, and he doesn’t want to go through that. More importantly, he doesn’t want to go through that and then end up running into her while he’s out with them.  _ How could I explain that? _ He’s also pretty sure that Clarke wouldn’t appreciate telling other people about her attempt to get laid, even though he doesn’t think she should be embarrassed about it. He just doesn’t know her thoughts on it.

“I’m hungry,” Jasper sighs.

“You’re always hungry,” Miller says from the armchair, looking at his phone. “Go get some chips or something.”

“I don’t want chips though.”

“You know what I’m thinking?” Monty asks, and Bellamy has a feeling he already knows where this is going.

“Sonic?”

“Sonic.”

Bellamy fights his eye roll, wanting to just finish the movie before everyone starts getting ideas about where they want to get food from, but of course, that gets everyone’s attention.

“I could go for Sonic.” Miller looks at the rest of them.

“I want a blast,” Murphy says as he stretches out. “Who’s driving?”

“Oh, I’m not street legal.”

“Neither am I.”

“I’m way too drunk.”

“I guess that leaves you, Blake.” Murphy nudges Bellamy with his foot and Bellamy swats it away.

“I’ve been drinking, too. None of us are driving to get Sonic.”

“We still have an hour left on the movie,” Jasper says, turning around and smiling at Bellamy. “Drink some water.”

“I don’t want to drive.”

“Four against one, majority rules.” Monty shrugs from his spot on the floor next to Jasper and Bellamy sighs.

“Then someone get me a bottle of water,” he groans, and Jasper jumps up, jogging towards the kitchen.

~

By the time the five of them are making their way out of his apartment and towards his truck, Bellamy can feel his body wanting to go to sleep. The past two weeks haven’t been nearly as strenuous as the last week of their project, but what he did drink tonight, he’s ready to lay down. When he was in high school, he probably would have been the first one to jump up to get food, but he’s not seventeen anymore and he just really loves sleeping a lot more than he used to.

Bellamy kind of zones out as everyone decides where they’re sitting, and he yawns when the truck comes to life, but he’s fine as he pulls out of his parking spot. Where he lives is cheap, and there’s a gas station that’s close and it’s not a bad neighborhood, but they still have to drive a bit to get to the closest Sonic. 

As usual, Jasper asks for the aux cord as he’s already reaching over from the back seat to grab it and Murphy tries to push him away as he reaches for it, too. This always happens because when they drink they can’t be civil and ask for the aux to play music, so Bellamy only sighs as he leans his arm onto the driver side door and readjusts his grip on the steering wheel.  _ We just need to get there, get the food, and then get back to the apartment. _ If they can do that, then he can leave them in the living room and go to sleep and hope that they don’t ruin anything like they did during the Fourth of July.

When he pulls into the Sonic parking lot, there aren’t that many cars out but he’s not exactly surprised. It’s nearly midnight and it’s a Friday night, people have other things they could be doing. Everyone scrambles around in the back seat, rolling down the window and Bellamy runs a hand over the back of his neck as he rolls down his window and looks up at the menu.

“I can’t see,” Jasper groans.

“Neither can I. Move your head, Monty.” 

“It’s not my fault the two of you wanted to sit there.”

“I can’t see either,” Murphy grumbles, “duck down, Bellamy.”

“No, look out of the windshield.”

“Let’s go sit at the tables!” Jasper’s head pops up between the two seats, and Bellamy casts a sidelong look at him.

“So, I can wrangle all of you back into the car? No, thanks.”

“Jeez, Bellamy.” Monty clasps him on the shoulder. “Lighten up.” And with that, Monty opens the door as Miller and Murphy do the same, and then his four friends are sliding out of his truck and walking towards a table under the pavilion.

_ Why did I agree to this? We should have just done Waitr or UberEats or something _ . Bellamy yawns as he rolls up all of the windows, and as he goes to turn off his truck a pair of headlights shine in through the windshield. He doesn’t pay attention to them as he pulls the keys out of the ignition and then grabs his phone out of the cup holder, but when the lights disappear he glances towards the other car.

Then he does a double take, his eyes widening.

_ Fuck. _

There, sitting in the passenger seat in the car across the pavilion is Clarke. She’s not looking at him since she’s saying something to the driver, another young blonde girl, and Bellamy can feel his mouth go dry.  _ She’s here _ . Bellamy feel’s rooted in his seat as he looks out at her, but then the sound of his friends talking makes him realize that he can’t just sit here and stare at her, so he swallows as he gets out of his truck and shuts the door behind him.

The sound of the door shutting seems to get Clarke’s attention because Bellamy watches as she turns to look over at him, and she does a double take like he did. Even though they’re not close to one another, he’s pretty sure he can feel her blue eyes staring into his soul as he walks towards the table that his friends are sitting at. Even when he reaches the table, the two of them don’t stop looking at each other until he has to tell Monty to move over so he has enough room to sit down on the bench. 

“Okay, everyone know what they want?” Miller asks, and the others say they do when Bellamy turns around in the seat to look at the menu.

“I haven’t looked yet.”

“Well, you better hurry.” Miller presses the button, calling the kitchen, and Bellamy rolls his eyes as he begins scanning the menu, but the corner of his mouth turns up despite his internal screaming at seeing Clarke.  _ I’m friends with a bunch of assholes _ .

It takes a minute for all of them to get their orders in, with Miller offering to get everyone’s food since  _ “Bellamy’s head will explode if we make him pay, too” _ and then they sit around the table and talk while they wait for their food to get brought out. Bellamy’s leg bounces as he rests his elbows on the table, and he forces himself not to look over at Clarke. He wants to say that he can feel her looking at him, but he doesn’t want to look to see if he’s right. 

_ I wonder what she’s doing here. _ He pauses.  _ She’s here to get food, what other fucking reason would bring her here? Am I really this stupid? _ Bellamy curses himself silently as his friends talk about what movie they want to put on when they get back, and then he hears a girl talking.

It’s not Clarke, he knows it’s not, but that doesn’t stop him from looking over and seeing the other blonde girl leaning out the window as Clarke leans over, too.  _ She looks good _ . The smile that he came to love two weeks ago never seems to go away as she talks to her friend, and he can hear her laughing slightly through the one open window.  _ At least I know she’s doing okay _ . He thought about how she was doing a lot after he dropped her off at her car that day, but he assumed she had to be okay. He doesn’t know how much she argued with her mom once she left, but other than that he figured she was fine.

“Dude.” Monty’s voice pulls Bellamy out of his head, and Bellamy looks over at his friend who’s raising an eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“You’re spaced out.”

“I’m tired.”

“Me, too.” Jasper yawns, leaning over towards Miller and resting his head on his shoulder.

“Wow.” Monty’s voice is soft as he speaks, and Bellamy glances at his friend only to find him looking towards the car Bellamy is trying  _ very _ hard not to look at. But, when he does, both of the girls are already looking at them.

“What?” That gets Jasper’s attention and he looks to where Monty is looking. “Oh, girls.” Jasper looks back. “Which one?”

_ Don’t say the passenger. _ The thought comes into Bellamy’s mind before he can stop it, and he takes a deep breath.  _ No, it doesn’t matter. Monty would be a great boyfriend.  _

“The driver,” Monty says quietly, and even though Bellamy knows it’s not reasonable, he can feel some of the tension leave his body. 

“Go talk to her.” Miller nudges him with his elbow and Monty’s cheeks turn slightly pink.

“It’s midnight and she’s trying to eat. It would be weird.”

“I say go for it.” Jasper grins. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She says no and calls the cops,” Murphy snorts, and Bellamy kicks him under the table, causing him to turn on him. “Fucker.”

“I’ve been drinking. And smoking.” Monty sighs and leans down, resting his chin on his arms. 

“That’s the best time to do it,” Miller says. “We all know you wouldn’t do it sober.”

“Yes, I would.”

“Monty,” Jasper sighs dramatically, reaching over to place his hand on his friend’s arm. “We all know that’s not true.”

“Asshole.” 

Thankfully, the server comes with their food and Bellamy is saved from having to respond to anything, and all of them dig in. He’s acutely aware of the fact that Clarke is sitting in the car a few feet from him, but he doesn’t look. If any of his friends catch him looking over at her too much, they’ll start asking questions. And if they start asking questions because he thinks that the passenger is hot, then who’s to say that one of them wouldn’t go over and talk to her? The food coming out is what kept them from doing that to Monty.

He notices when the same server who brought them their food comes out and heads to the car that Clarke is in, and when he chances a look over at her, she smiles a little at him.  _ Of all the places she could have gone, she came to Sonic _ . Bellamy can feel himself smiling back at her a little, too, before he turns his attention back to his food.  _ God, they can’t know that I know her _ .  _ And they definitely can’t know how I came to know her _ .

As they eat, Bellamy half pays attention to the rest of them trying to get Monty to suck it up and go ask the driver—Clarke’s  _ friend _ —for her number, and Monty telling them no. If Bellamy’s being honest, he hasn’t seen Monty look this taken with a girl just from looking at her in a while, and his heart goes out to him. He hadn’t been either until Clarke came up to him on the sidewalk. A part of him wants to tell Monty that he knows how he feels, but he doesn’t.

That’s definitely a road he doesn’t want to go down. 

Everyone must have been hungrier than he thought, because within about fifteen minutes all of the food is gone and everyone's gathering their trash before grabbing their shakes and Bellamy looks over at Clarke again. She’s eating ice cream and it’s like she can feel him looking at her because her eyes find his, and he watches as she takes a bite of ice cream before slowly pulling the spoon from her mouth. He’s pretty sure she doesn’t mean it to be hot, but it is, and Bellamy can feel himself wanting to go talk to her. Get her number. 

But he shouldn’t.

He knows he shouldn’t.

But  _ damn _ does he want to.

“Okay, let’s go. This bench is hurting my ass.” Murphy grunts as he gets up, and the others begin to get up, too. Bellamy begins to grab his trash, piling it all together when he hears something.

The door to the car opens and Bellamy looks over to find Clarke getting out with her hands full of trash, too. He tries not to stare, but he already knows he’s bad at that. He’s been trying not to stare at her since they got here and he’s failed miserably. She walks towards the trashcan and throws the stuff away, but when she turns to head back to the car she looks at him, and Bellamy’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest.

_ She’s wearing my shirt _ . 

His mouth goes dry for a second time that night, and he watches her as she heads back to her friend’s car and he walks to the trash can. He can already hear everyone beginning to get into his truck and he turns, whistling at Miller. 

_ Fuck it. _

“Hey, start my truck.” He tosses his friend the keys and Miller raises an eyebrow at him before looking towards the car with Clarke and her friend.

When Miller turns and starts towards the truck, Bellamy turns his attention back to where Clarke is sitting and he walks towards her. He can see the exact moment she realizes he’s walking towards her because her lips part and her eyes widen a fraction and she stares at him. He doesn’t waver in his gaze as he walks up to her window, and he can see her friend saying something to her but he can’t hear Clarke’s response before she turns and rolls down her window.

“Yes?”

“Hi,” he smiles at the two of them, but he lets his eyes linger on Clarke a little longer before looking over at her friend. “I know this is really weird, but my friend, Monty,” he points towards the truck, and sure enough, Monty’s face is clear from the passenger seat and he looks  _ horrified _ , “in the passenger seat, is really shy so he wouldn’t do this, but he thinks you’re gorgeous and wants to ask you for your number.”

“Oh.” Clarke’s friend’s eyes widen a little, and she turns back to his truck, waving as she smiles a little.  _ Thankfully _ , Monty waves back, too. “Yeah, okay.” 

Relief floods Bellamy’s system and he looks back at Clarke as her friend grabs a scratch piece of paper and a pen. Being this close to her, he wants to reach out and touch her. Run his hand through her hair. Kiss her.  _ Something _ . Rather than just looking at her. But, he can do that, too. He lets his eyes roam over her, letting them linger on her shirt, and when he looks back at her face the bright blush he loved seeing is back, and he smiles at her.

“I like your shirt.”

Clarke’s cheeks redden even more but he doesn’t have time to appreciate it because her friend hands over the piece of paper, reaching across her. “If he’s going to ask me out, though, tell him he needs to do himself.” She smirks.

_ No wonder she and Clarke are friends _ . He looks down at the piece of paper, noticing her name at the top, and he smiles back at her. “He will. Thank you for this, Harper.” He holds up the piece of paper. “Have a good night.” 

Bellamy looks from Harper to Clarke, his eyes not wanting to leave her face until he forces himself to turn around and head back to his truck. Monty is still looking at him like a deer in headlights when Bellamy slides into the driver’s seat, then he hands over the piece of paper with Harper’s name in number on it.

“Call her to ask her out.”

Monty swallows as he takes the piece of paper, looking at it like it’s something that’ll disappear, before turning back to Bellamy. “Thanks, man.”

“No problem.” Bellamy pulls on his seatbelt, looking to where Harper’s car was parked and noticing Clarke looking at him as her friend backs out of the spot.

“Did you get the other girl’s number?” Miller asks, and Bellamy takes a silent, deep breath as he begins backing out of his parking spot, too. 

“I’m not looking for company.”

On the way back to the apartment, no one brings up the other girl that was in Harper’s car or asks Bellamy  _ why _ he decided to go up and ask for her number for Monty but, it wouldn’t exactly be the first time he’s been a wingman. Then, once everyone is piled up in the living room, Bellamy makes his way into his room and throws himself on the bed. 

_ God, I shouldn’t have done that _ .

He sighs, running a hand over his face before he rolls over and buries his face in his pillow. Just thinking about Clarke has him starting to harden in his pants, and he repositions himself to make it go away.  _ What am I a fucking teenager? _ He should have more control over this by now, but he doesn’t. Just how he didn’t have any control over himself when he decided to check Clarke out and tell her that he likes her shirt. She knows it’s his shirt, and now she knows that despite him turning her down he’s still flirting with her.

_ It doesn’t matter, though. _ He tells himself.  _ I’ll never see her again and, if I do, I won’t talk to her. Not again. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> I've already kind of started on chapter 4, but I also have two other fics I'm trying to finish this week so I don't know if I'll have time to work on it. So, that being said, there may not be an update next Monday, but I'll definitely make sure to update the week after that! I want to thank y'all for the love you've shown this fic, because I really wasn't expecting it lol it means a lot to me <33
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back :)

A week later, Bellamy is sitting on his couch when his phone begins to ring, and when he looks down at it, Jasper’s name is lighting up the screen along with his contact picture of him wearing his goggles and holding up a drink at the camera. 

“Hello?”

“Bellamy,” Jasper sighs, “put me out of my misery.”

“And by that you mean…”

“Bring me to a bar.”

Bellamy stretches out on his couch, leaning back as he crosses one of his arms over his chest. “Any reason why?”

“I got my organic chem test back,” he grumbles.

“And you bombed it?”

“Yes!” Jasper nearly shouts and Bellamy pulls his phone away from his ear. “I’m _majoring_ in chemistry. It’s like my baby, and I _failed_ an orgo chem exam! I mean, what the fuck?”

“Well,” Bellamy says, already making his way towards his room so he can change into a pair of jeans, “how did everyone else do on the exam?”

“Almost everyone failed it except for like two people who were in the high sixties.”

“And what was your grade?”

“Fifty-nine,” Jasper sighs, and Bellamy puts his phone on speaker as he changes.

“Did you do better than everyone else other than those two people?”

“Yeah.”

“Then, don’t worry about it.”

“ _Don’t worry about it?”_ Jasper echoes, and Bellamy finds himself trying to bite back a laugh.

“Ever heard of weed-out classes? It doesn’t matter how well you do overall, it matters how well you do compared to everyone else. If only two people got a higher grade than you, then you did better than, what, 98% of the class? Don’t stress about it.”

“Huh,” Jasper says, then he pauses. “I still want to go out to a bar though.”

“I know. I’m walking out of my door now.”

As he locks his front door he can hear Jasper snicker. “Thanks, dad.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

~

After Bellamy picks up Jasper he drives to one of the closer bars by the college campus, only to see that the place already looks semi-packed. He shouldn’t be surprised, though, since it is a Friday night, but he begins to realize why he never really comes out here anymore. Of course, he’ll come whenever his friends invite him, but that’s rare. The only reason they’re at this bar now is because they’re kind of known for not really I.D-ing people and Jasper is twenty.

Bellamy sighs as he turns his truck off and gets out, looking around at all of the college students milling about. Even though he’s sure there are other people that are around his age here, he can’t help but feel a little out of place. Jasper shoves his hands in his pockets as he makes his way around the truck and then he smiles at Bellamy.

“Thanks for coming with me.”

“No problem.” Bellamy puts his hands in his pockets, too, as he follows his friend towards the front door. “Where’s Monty?”

“He’s on a date with Harper tonight,” Jasper says over his shoulder, and Bellamy’s mind immediately drifts to Clarke.

“So, he called her?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that nervous in my _life_.” Jasper chuckles. “He tried getting me to go with them so I could double-date with her roommate but…”

Bellamy stops listening. There’s a tightness in his chest and his heart feels like it’s in his ears because all he can hear is the sound of it beating as he mindlessly follows his friend into the bar. _Is Clarke her roommate? She has to be, right? Well, unless she actually is living with her parents._ Bellamy swallows around the tightness in his throat, trying to take a deep breath through his nose. _Wait. Why do I care? She’s an adult. She can date whoever she likes_.

“Which is understandable.”

Jasper’s voice brings Bellamy out of his head and he turns, his eyes a little wide. “What?”

“I said that her roommate wasn’t up for a blind double-date. Which is understandable. I didn’t want to do that either.”

“Yeah.” Is all Bellamy can manage as he follows his friend through the crowd. “What’s her name?”

“Clarke,” Jasper calls over his shoulder before he moves to lean against the bar and Bellamy can feel himself freeze.

 _So, she is her roommate_. Then, another thought hits him. _What if she meets Monty and he finds out that we know each other? What do we do then? Do we just play it off like it wasn’t a big deal? Because it was a big deal...right? I mean, she wanted me to take her virginity. Well, she didn’t exactly tell me that in the beginning, but then…_

“You know, I thought you’d be better company.” Jasper’s voice brings Bellamy out of his head for a second time, and Bellamy turns towards his friend who is frowning at him.

“I’m great company.”

“Yeah, when you’re not stuck in la-la land.” Jasper shakes his head then turns around, waiting for the bartender to show up, and Bellamy takes a deep breath as he runs a hand through his hair. 

He shouldn’t be this caught up over Clarke when he’s only seen her twice and he didn’t even talk to her the second time. He told her hi and that he liked her shirt— _his_ shirt—and then he left with her friend’s number. So, no, he shouldn’t be this caught up with her, but he is and now his friend is caught up with her friend. _How the hell did I get dragged into this?_ If he had put his foot down that night about not going to Sonic then he wouldn’t be in this situation right now. So, really, it’s all Jasper and Monty’s fault for even suggesting Sonic to begin with.

 _No, I can’t blame them_. Bellamy sighs. _It’s on me._

“Okay, first round is on me which is kind of fucked up because I’m the one that needs to relax, but here.” Jasper puts a shot into Bellamy’s hands and Bellamy raises an eyebrow at him.

“I said I wasn’t going to drink.”

“And I say one shot won’t hurt you.” Jasper clinks his shot glass with Bellamy’s and before Bellamy realizes it, he’s down the liquid and placing the glass back onto the counter.

“Alright, no more drinks for me.”

“Uh-huh.” Jasper leans back onto the bar to try and get the bartender’s attention again, and Bellamy leans against it, too, looking out at all of the people surrounding them. 

It’s hard to make out how old everyone looks in the dark room, but he’s pretty sure he’s one of the oldest people here. In fact, it’s hard to make out anyone in this bar except the DJ in the back corner and that’s because of the brightly colored lights that are shining on them. When the bartender comes back, Bellamy asks for water and then pays for Jasper’s next drink, and he settles onto a barstool while he watches his friend twirl the little toothpick umbrella around in his glass.

If it were any other night he would probably be drinking, but he’s going to have to drive and he knows Jasper well enough at this point to realize when his friend is probably going to be comatose by the time they get back to his apartment. For Monty, he was a wingman, for Jasper, he’s a shitty drinking partner—turned babysitter. 

He’s not sure how long they’re there by the time Jasper takes his fifth shot after having two different mixed drinks, but then Bellamy finds himself being hauled towards one of the pool tables. Jasper tries to lazily get the billiard balls into the rack, and Bellamy takes to grabbing two pool cues for them. Honestly, he’s surprised Jasper was even able to claim a table since more people seem to want to shoot pool than dance, but he can’t say he’s complaining. 

Bellamy lets Jasper take the first shot, and then the game begins with Jasper getting stripes. One thing Bellamy has always been good at is pool, and Bellamy likes to give himself some of that credit. Though, Jasper seems to get better the more he drinks which is something Bellamy never understood. Jasper smirks as he leans over to line up his shot, and Bellamy rests his hands on his pool cue, watching. 

Except, he notices something.

It’s like his mind already knows what it is— _who_ it is—before he gets a proper look, but of course it would. His heart rate picks up and his hands get sweaty, and his mouth goes dry despite the amount of water he’s consumed since showing up here as he swallows. 

_Of course, this would fucking happen_. _I can’t catch a break, can I?_

Stealing himself, Bellamy takes one last look at Jasper before moving his gaze up and over his friend’s head, only to find Clarke already looking at him. _She looks beautiful_. He thought she was stunning the night he met her and he still thinks she’s stunning now. Her wavy, golden hair is half pulled back and his t-shirt is gone, but in its place is a white v-neck and _god_ if he didn’t want to look at her chest more.

Another person, a guy that must be playing pool with her, says something and Bellamy watches as she looks from him to the guy then back to him again. Then, she smirks. It’s slight, barely a curl of her lips, but it’s there nonetheless as she surveys the table in front of her. 

She walks around to the other side, her eyes lingering on him before she turns her back to him, and then she bends over. He can’t see what ball she’s trying to hit, but something tells him she didn’t have to lean over the table to get to it. Despite his internal voice screaming at him not to do it, Bellamy’s eyes slide down to her ass and she shifts on her feet.

_God, I’m going to Hell._

The sound of Jasper groaning is what brings Bellamy’s attention back to his own pool table, and when he looks Jasper is glaring at one of the pockets as he pulls the cue ball out of it. 

“Guess that means it’s my turn.” 

Bellamy surveys the table, noticing that he and Jasper are pretty even how many balls are still left in play, and then he lines up his shot. He tries not to notice Clarke straightening after she takes her shot, or the fact that he can hear her laugh as she taunts her opponent. No, he tries not to notice it as he takes his shot. 

The ball goes smoothly into the corner pocket and Bellamy takes a moment to figure out where the best position is for him to take his next shot when he gets an idea. The pool tables aren’t _that_ close together, but close enough to where most people have to slide by. Though, they can usually do it without touching another person. As if Bellamy was actually going to do that. 

Smiling to himself, Bellamy walks to the side of the table and turns sideways a little so he can move past Clarke, though he might _accidentally_ touch his shoulder to hers as he says, “Excuse me.”

Even over the noise in the room he can hear her suck in a breath and he doesn’t know if he may have been the one to throw her off balance but she leans back into him a little before he’s clear on the other side of the table. He glances at Jasper, but his friend isn’t paying any attention to him and when he looks back at Clarke she’s now on the other side of her pool table with an eyebrow raised. He smirks at her.

He turns his attention back to the game and leans over the table, setting up to take his shot and then sinking another ball. If he can keep this up, he might be able to beat Jasper before Jasper drinks even more and wipes the table with him. He sinks another ball, then another, but then he scratches and Jasper smiles triumphantly as he picks up the cue ball and finds a place where he wants to put it. 

Bellamy leans on to the stick as he waits for his friend but, of course, he can’t keep himself from looking over at Clarke. Her blue eyes are bright as she turns her gaze towards him, and then he watches as she smiles and leans over the table, her shirt hanging down a little.

 _Yep. Definitely going to Hell_.

He can almost see her bra but _god her cleavage is nice_. He knows he shouldn’t be ogling her how he is, but he really can’t help it. He also knows he’ll feel like shit for this later, but right now he can’t really bring himself to look away. He hasn’t been able to get her out of his mind for _weeks_ and now here she is, looking like the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen and he feels like he might be dying.

The rest of the game goes pretty much the same way, with both him and Clarke stealing looks at each other when their opponents aren’t looking and Clarke even brushing past him how he did her which definitely didn’t help Bellamy’s internal struggle. But, eventually, the game is over and Jasper is yelling into his ear that he has to use the bathroom, so Bellamy takes that as his chance to get out of there and smoke.

He makes his way through the crowd and towards the doors, but something makes him look back over his shoulder. Sure enough, Clarke stands illuminated in one of the lights above a table and she finds him, but he doesn’t linger as he pushes out of the door and into the fresh air. Something Bellamy has always loved is the first breath of air that isn’t stale beer and sweat when he walks out of a bar, and he walks down a little ways before finding an ashtray stand and leaning up against the wall beside it. He and Jasper have been here for a little over two hours and Jasper already seems like he’s almost near calling it a night from how much he’s drunk, so if Bellamy’s lucky they might be able to get home within the next hour.

There are a lot more people walking around outside now, and Bellamy does his best to keep his cigarette smoke from blowing in their direction. The last time he saw Octavia she almost didn’t hug him because she said he smelled too much like cigarettes, which was surprising since he’s been smoking since he was sixteen, but she was adamant about him at least changing his shirt before she got anywhere near him. 

“You know those are bad for you, right?” Clarke’s voice comes from off to the side and Bellamy leans his head onto the wall as he turns to look at her.

“Giving me a lecture, princess?” 

The name slips out before he can catch it, but it’s been in the back of his mind for a while. The car, the credit car, the clothes...she comes from money, which is more than he can say for himself. He watches as her already pink cheeks turn a deeper color, and she looks away from his eyes and at the cigarette in his hand.

Without a word, Bellamy pulls his pack out of his back pocket and hands her one, then he pulls out his lighter and holds it as she lights her cigarette. She takes a drag, looking back up at him before blowing it out slowly. “I ask you for a cigarette once and then you assume I’m going to ask again?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Well you were, weren’t you?” He raises his eyebrows, too, and then Clarke leans her shoulder against the building beside him.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe.”

They both stand there for a moment, puffing on their cigarettes, and then Bellamy looks at her again. “So, you didn’t want to go on a double date with Jasper?” He asks, and he watches as Clarke’s eyes widen a little.

“I don’t know—I mean, I figured it would probably be best if I distanced myself from your friends.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it, and Bellamy can feel something pulling at his chest.

“You don’t want them to know that we know each other?”

“No!” Her gaze snaps to his. “I don’t care if they know that, it’s just—you know…”

 _Yeah, I do_.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m going to go around telling people.”

“I know, you won’t.” She smiles a little at him. “I, um, I want to thank you for getting Harper’s number for Monty. She’s really excited about their date tonight.”

“From what I’ve heard Monty was, too.”

“Yeah.” Her smile softens. “And thanks again for the clothes.” 

_God, don’t remind me_. The image of her wearing his shirt comes back into his mind and Bellamy stuffs his hand into his pocket as he wills it to go away. “I’m glad you like them.”

And that’s how they stand there just looking at each other for what feels like forever. Time seems to stop and the noise from the crowd disappears and suddenly it just feels like it’s Bellamy and Clarke in their own little world. It’s crazy, and he knows that, but he can’t seem to look away from her. Or walk away.

The conversation drifts to what they’re both doing in their day-to-day lives, with Clarke filling him in on midterms that are happening and how this is the first night she’s been out in what feels like forever, and Bellamy tells her about the new project his boss has everyone working on. It reminds him a lot of the first night they met and their ability to never seem to run out of things to talk about, and Bellamy is amazed at how much he just likes talking to her. He didn’t get to last time, since he didn’t want to make it obvious that they knew each other, but…

“Clarke!” Both of them turn towards the voice, and Bellamy recognizes the man as the one Clarke was playing pool with.

 _Of course, she would be here with somebody. I should have asked that_.

“Yeah?” Clarke calls as the guy walks towards them, and he looks from Clarke, to Bellamy, then to the cigarette in Clarke’s hand.

“Really?” The guy sighs, and Clarke shrugs.

“Why not?” She takes another drag of it then flicks off the ashes and tosses it into the ashtray. “Bellamy, this is Wells Jaha, Wells this is Bellamy Blake.” Clarke motions between the two of them, and Wells holds his hand out and Bellamy shakes it.

“Nice to meet you.” Wells nods his head at Bellamy and Bellamy does the same before the other guy turns towards Clarke. “My dad called, we gotta go.”

“I don’t want to go.” Clarke crosses her arms over her chest, turning her body away from Bellamy a little, and Bellamy looks from her to Wells.

“Well, _I_ have to.” Wells shoves his hands in his pockets. “And I don’t want you to take an Uber.”

“Seriously, what is with people and not wanting me to take Ubers?” She huffs, and then she turns around, her ocean-blue eyes pining Bellamy where he is. “When are you going to leave?”

“I don’t know, maybe an hour?” Bellamy knows where this is going, and he knows he should get away from it as fast he possibly can, but of course, he’s not.

“Could you give me a ride home?” She smiles brightly at him, and Bellamy looks from her to Wells and back again. “Please?”

 _Oh god._ She bites at her bottom lip as she continues to stare him down, and Bellamy has to swallow over the tightness forming in his throat as he says, “Yeah, sure.”

“Thank you.” Clarke continues smiling as she turns around, and Wells raises an eyebrow at her. “Text me when you get home and I’ll do the same.”

Her friend sighs, shaking his head, but he lets Clarke pull him in for a hug. “Don’t do anything stupid.” Bellamy doesn’t know if Wells meant for him to hear that, but he does, and suddenly Bellamy has the urge to step away from Clarke.

He knows that nothing is going to happen between the two of them but, still. He’s attracted to her and it seems pretty clear that she’s attracted to him, and with how she was acting earlier he wouldn’t be surprised if they kissed before this night was over. _Which isn’t going to happen_. 

When Wells walks off, Clarke turns back to Bellamy and smiles, and Bellamy can’t help but smile back.

~

In all, they’re at the bar for about thirty more minutes with Bellamy and Clarke spending most of that time outside talking when Jasper sends Bellamy a text to meet him in the bathroom. When Bellamy shows up, Jasper is hugging a toilet and Bellamy silently curses himself for getting so caught up in talking with Clarke that he thought Jasper wouldn’t need him. He wraps his friend’s arm around his shoulders and hoists him up, grateful that there isn’t any vomit on Jasper’s clothes, or even in the toilet for that matter, and the two of them make their way outside.

Clarke is checking her phone when they emerge, but then she’s there, grabbing ahold of Jasper’s other arm as they make their way to Bellamy’s truck. Jasper looks over at Clarke as they walk, but all Bellamy can make out is “Pretty” before he’s laying his friend down in his passenger seat.

“He doesn’t look twenty-one,” Clarke points out, and Bellamy looks over at her as he shuts the back door. 

“But this isn’t a twenty-one or over bar.” He continues to look at her as he opens the passenger seat of his truck and helps her in, and notices Clarke bite the inside of her cheek as he shuts the door. He makes his way around to the driver’s side, twirling his keys in his hand as he climbs into the truck, too.

“I’m sorry your night got cut short,” he says as the truck roars to life, and Clarke settles back into the seat, propping her arm up on the center console. She smiles at him.

“The company makes up for it.”

Bellamy tries to bite back his laugh as he pulls out of his parking spot, but a chuckle still escapes. “You’re a handful.”

Clarke giggles. “I know.”

It’s only when Bellamy is out of the throng of people that he asks Clarke where he’s taking her, and she types in the directions to a place across town. _So, not the campus_. “Harper and I may be best friends but I do not want to be there in case her and Monty come back tonight.”

“Yeah, not the best thing to experience.” 

He’s definitely not going to go into _that_ situation, but he can hear Clarke laugh softly before he pulls out onto the main highway. The loud noises from the bar seem to follow Bellamy as he drives, but he can hear Clarke sigh softly as she shuffles down in the seat a little, putting her feet up on the dash.

“You know, we seem to keep running into each other,” she says, looking over at him, and Bellamy glances at her before switching lanes.

“Yeah, I’ve thought that, too.”

Then, there’s silence. It’s understandable, since it’s late and Bellamy can feel himself getting tired, but he also doesn’t want to drop Clarke off on a quiet note.

“I’m, uh, sorry if I embarrassed you that night at Sonic,” he says softly, and Clarke snorts.

“Embarrassing is thinking you were going to ask for my number, too, but getting a ‘I like your shirt’ instead.”

At that, Bellamy can feel his cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I mean, I get it.”

Silence comes again and Bellamy wants to knock himself upside the head. But, all too soon, he turns into a really nice looking neighborhood and the realization that he’s about to have to say goodbye to her again settles in his chest. It’s not a pleasant feeling, and he wishes he could just turn the car around and bring her back to his place, but he knows that can’t happen. 

_It never can_.

She points towards a half-circle driveway and Bellamy pulls into it, his eyes widening a little as he looks up at the house. _Princess, indeed_. He puts the car in park then turns to look at her, and the memory of Clarke rolling her head to the side the day he dropped her off at her car comes back, mixing with the image of her now.

“Thanks for the ride, Bellamy,” she murmurs, and Bellamy’s hand flexes on the steering wheel as he nods his head.

“Anytime.” At that, the corner of her mouth turns up and he watches as she reaches for the door handle. Then… “Can I have your number?”

Clarke stops, her lips parting as she looks at him, and Bellamy freezes where he is. He knows it’s not a good idea, none of this was a good idea, but she’s here and she’s in front of him, and he doesn’t want to say bye again.

She presses her lips together for a moment, looking away from him as she runs her hand over the edge of the center console. “Don’t ask me out of pity, Bellamy. It doesn’t make this any better.”

“It’s not pity, Clarke.” He leans closer to her, urging her to look up at him. “I wanted your number that night but, I didn’t know what would happen if I did.”

“So, big bad Bellamy Blake is scared of a little blonde girl?” Her smile is bright when she says it, and Bellamy finds himself smiling a little, too.

“A little, if I’m being honest.” Then, she giggles. That sweet, adorable giggle he absolutely loves.

“Okay, fine.”

Bellamy hands her his phone and he watches as Clarke puts her number in then she hands it back to him. “But now I want something.”

“Of course, you do,” Bellamy sighs, but the smile he’s trying to hide pulls at his lips anyway. “What is it?”

“I want a goodnight kiss.”

Those five little words, just those words, sends something through Bellamy that he’s tried to fight for _weeks_ at this point.

"Clarke..."

"Please," she smiles, and then they sit there, looking at each other.

After a split second, Bellamy loses the war within himself and leans forward, aiming for her cheek but of course Clarke wouldn’t let that slide. She turns her head and then their lips are together for the first time since that night, and Bellamy wants to melt into her.

But, it’s over as quickly as it came as Bellamy pulls back, and then they’re smiling at each other. “Goodnight, Bellamy,” she whispers, and Bellamy’s heart flips as he looks at her.

“Good night, Clarke.”

And with that, Clarke smiles as she turns and opens the door, and Bellamy watches as she walks up the steps. She turns and waves at him before walking into her house, and Bellamy waits for a moment before he takes his truck out of park and makes his way back towards his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, Clarke wouldn't let him get away with a cheek kiss ;)
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	5. Chapter 5

Bellamy texted Clarke when he got home that night and, unsurprisingly, they haven’t stopped texting since. Of course, he tries not to text her too much since, one, he has work to do but, two, he doesn’t want to make things seem like they’re heading in a certain direction when they’re not. He still likes talking to her, sure, but they’ve agreed to be friends. _Just_ friends. Which is also why he told her that she couldn’t ask for anymore goodnight kisses. 

Now, two weeks after that night at the bar he has to admit, he loves talking to her. _Really_ loves it. It’s nice getting to see her name pop up on his screen when he’s taking a break from work and when he’s getting annoyed while he’s hanging out with his friends. Thankfully, Jasper didn’t bring up the pretty girl from the bar but, from what he’s told Bellamy, he doesn’t remember too much after texting him that he was in the bathroom. 

Bellamy sighs as he sits down on the floor, leaning up against one of the concrete walls. He’s going to have to figure out what he’s going to do for lunch soon since he forgot to buy stuff to make a sandwich, but he doesn’t exactly want to go to McDonald’s even though it’s right there and it’s cheap. Broke or not, he doesn’t want to completely ruin his health but that doesn’t really leave him with many options. 

He pushes himself up and checks the time on his phone. It’s nearly noon and he hasn’t eaten anything in hours so, yeah, it’s about time everyone takes a break to eat. His phone is still in his hands when it buzzes and he looks at the screen, his heart rate picking up slightly at the sight of Clarke’s name.

_Lunch?_

Now, they haven’t actually met up since that night at the bar but they also haven’t had any weird run-ins either. Though, Bellamy would be lying if he said he didn’t check for her whenever he went to Walmart with Octavia. He’s not sure what kind of ground rules they’re supposed to have, or what they _need_ to have, but somehow lunch feels like it might be pushing it. _Lunch sounds like a date and we aren’t dating,_ he tells himself. _But if we’re not dating then this would technically be a date, right? It would just be two friends getting food._ He nods. _But if I pay for it all then would it be a date?_

The sound of the other workers getting louder and the whistles catch Bellamy’s attention, and he tucks his phone back into his pocket as he makes his way towards the front of the construction site. No one is working anymore and he can’t make out what anyone is saying, but then when a few of the men move out of the way his heart feels like it’s caught in his throat as he looks at Clarke. She’s smiling at everyone but Bellamy has a feeling that she’s not exactly comfortable if her posture is anything to go by, and he’s seen her smile enough to where he’s pretty sure that one doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Fuck off and grab lunch!” Bellamy bellows, and all of the guys turn to look at him, a few of them raising their eyebrows at him. “What?”

“Friend of yours, Blake?” Dax asks, a smirk pulling at the side of his face, and Bellamy _really_ wishes he knew why Pike keeps him around. 

“Go eat lunch, you’re not getting another chance.” Bellamy pushes past everyone and makes his way towards Clarke, motioning for her to start walking away as he positions himself behind her. She’s wearing a skirt, and if he knows anything about the men he works with it's that they definitely like girls in skirts, so instead of them getting to look at her ass they get to look at his.

Clarke walks towards her car which is parked next to the sidewalk and when they reach it she turns around and leans up against it as she looks up at him. Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth as she looks from him to the site and back again, and he raises an eyebrow at her.

“What are you doing here?”

“I texted you asking if you wanted lunch,” she huffs, and Bellamy tries to fight his smile as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Didn’t think to say, ‘hey, I’m coming for lunch’?” 

She smiles a little. “Surprise?” 

Despite himself, Bellamy chuckles lightly and it makes Clarke smile even more as she looks up at him. “Okay, what do you want to do for lunch?”

“Um…” She clicks her tongue a couple of times, looking down the street. “Canes?”

“Sure.” Bellamy shrugs then reaches into his pocket for his keys, but before he can pull them out Clarke is already walking towards the driver side of her car. _She’s driving me to lunch?_

“What? Scared to get in a car with a girl driving?” She teases, and the corner of Bellamy’s mouth turns up.

“After riding around with Octavia? Definitely.”

Clarke giggles as Bellamy opens the passenger door and gets in. The interior of her car is smooth and soft, and her seats are a lot better than his. His truck isn’t _old_ , but it’s definitely been put to the test a few times over the years. He buckles up as Clarke takes her car out of park and pulls out onto the road, and Bellamy leans against the door frame as he looks over at her.

Her hair is fully down now, falling over her shoulders as she looks before taking a right, and she has on a light gray v-neck and a dark blue skirt—Bellamy looks away when he realizes how much her skirt has ridden up, and he turns his attention towards the moving world around them. It’s a hot day, but even so there are still a lot of people out and about and they drive past them. 

“So, what’s with the dropping by?” He asks, and Clarke glances at him. 

“What? I can’t just come by and say hi?” 

“Something tells me that’s not your thing.” 

The corner of Clarke’s mouth turns up, but Bellamy also notices the pinkness that begins to form on her cheeks and his mind begins to wander. 

They pull into the drive-thru at Canes and Bellamy’s surprised when it’s not over flooding with people. They’re in and out quickly and then Clarke is driving again but, this time, Bellamy doesn’t know where they’re going. She refused to take his money to pay for the food, which was one thing, but now...she takes a turn and Bellamy realizes that she has to be heading towards the park.

Sure enough, she pulls into one of the empty parking spots at the city park and Bellamy grabs their food and drinks as Clarke walks towards one of the picnic tables. _Not a date. Not a date. Not a date_. Bellamy repeats the words over and over again as if trying to tell the darker part of him that there’s nothing that’s going to come from this _. I get lunch with everyone else all the time, this isn’t any different_.

Clarke sits down at the table first as Bellamy places their bag with the food onto it, then he looks towards the bathrooms. “I need to go wash my hands. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” Clarke smiles up at him as she takes one of the boxes out of the bag and pops a french fry into her mouth. 

The smell of the food makes Bellamy’s stomach growl and he tries not to look too eager as he makes his way towards the bathroom, but he doesn’t linger in it after washing his hands. Within a minute he’s back at the table, maneuvering his way onto the bench across from her, and he’s opening his box of food.

He glances at her before he picks up one of the chicken tenders and she smiles around her straw as she takes a sip of her drink. _She has to have another reason for coming here_. He’s sure she’ll tell him what it is eventually, but he doesn’t know how long that will be.

“Why are you really here, Clarke?” He asks as he picks up his drink to take a sip, and Clarke’s eyes widen a little as she looks up at him, but then she turns her attention back towards her food as she picks up her bread.

“I think we should date.”

Bellamy inhales his Dr. Pepper, and buries his face in the crook of his elbow as he starts coughing. _What the fuck._ He tries to calm himself down and when he’s sure he’s not going to cough anymore he looks over at Clarke. Her eyebrows are furrowed together and her lips are pressed in a thin line as she looks at him, and suddenly Bellamy feels like all coherent thought has left his body.

“Come again?”

Clarke rolls her shoulders back as she sits up straighter, and he can’t help but think that she looks like someone trying to make a deal. “Not _actually_ date, since I know that’s on the table, but,” she leans her elbows onto the table, “make people think we are.”

“And why would we do that?” Bellamy leans onto the table, too, feeling the peeling paint scrape against his arms. He picks up a french fry as he looks over at her, and the slight pink color from earlier is back on her cheeks. She looks away from him, picking at the chicken in front of her, and then there’s a voice in the back of Bellamy’s mind that’s telling him he knows _why_ but he doesn’t want to say it. No, he wants to hear her say it.

Clarke takes a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back again, and then she brings her bright blue eyes up to look at him. _She really is beautiful_. “I want to give my parents a little hell and you’re the perfect person to help me do it.”

“Really? And why is that?” Bellamy leans back a little and Clarke looks away from him for a moment before looking back. “I’ve seen your car, Clarke. I’ve brought you home. I’ve seen your platinum card and I can see that diamond necklace that’s around your neck.” Her hand comes up and covers it, her lips parting a little. “The reason why I’m perfect is—”

“Don’t finish that fucking sentence, Bellamy.” She glares at him. “If you seriously think I would ask you to do this because you don’t have as much money as me then you must have a worse view of me than I thought.”

Those last few words strike home and Bellamy deflates a little as he looks at her. _A worse view of her? Where is that coming from?_ Bellamy’s eyebrows knit together as he leans back onto the table, trying to get closer to her than before. “What view do you think I have of you?”

Clarke looks away again, shrugging a little. “I don’t know. A girl who wanted to play dress up for a night and now you’re only talking to me out of some sort of obligation or think that you need to protect me from something.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy sighs, but she doesn’t look at him as she pokes at her fries. “Can you look at me, please?”

She does, but then her blue eyes capture him and suddenly he wonders if having her look at him wasn’t the best idea. “We’re _friends_ , okay? I don’t feel an obligation to talk to you because I _want_ to talk to you. We get along, and it’s nice having someone to talk to when I need a break or my friends are annoying the hell out of me.” The corners of Clarke’s mouth turn up at that, and Bellamy reaches out a little, running his finger over the side of her hand. “Whatever bad view you think I have of you I want you to push it out of your mind because it’s not true.”

Clarke looks at him for a moment, one of her fingers moving to touch his. He shouldn’t have touched her, but he couldn’t exactly let her sit there and believe that he doesn’t want to be around her. Or talk to her. That’s all he wants, if he’s going to be honest with himself.

“Okay,” she whispers, and Bellamy smiles a little as he leans back, pulling his hand away from hers. She seems to pout a little at it, but Bellamy forces himself not to notice. 

“Now, what’s the real reason you want me to do it?”

Clarke bites at her bottom lip for a moment, peeking up at him through her eyelashes. “You’re...you. You’re hot and smart and it’s clear that there’s at least some kind of connection between us, I mean, I text you more than I text Wells and he’s my best friend. And…” she trails off, but Bellamy sits there patiently. “You’re older than me.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “That’s a requirement?”

“It definitely helps.” Clarke smirks at him as she picks up her drink, and Bellamy raises his other eyebrow at her. “Look, it doesn’t have to be for long, I just think it would be fun.”

“Is that why you bought me lunch? To bribe me?” He’s beginning to lose his battle with trying not to smile, and then Clarke grinning at him makes him do it, too.

“I wouldn’t say it was a _bribe_.”

“Persuasion?”

“Yeah,” her eyes spark as she looks at him. “Let's call it that.”

Bellamy looks at her for a moment then chuckles and shakes his head as he turns his attention back to his food. He’s going to have to head back soon, but he’s not sure where he stands with this whole situation. The whole thing is that she wants it to seem like they’re dating, but he told himself he wouldn’t get too close. This would be doing _exactly_ that. He’s not sure what she has in mind for what they would do, though. Since she lives in her door most of the time and he has his own apartment about fifteen minutes away, but he doesn’t even know if he wants to say yes. 

_Could I say yes? What would happen if I did?_ Would he have to meet her parents? _Of course, I would. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?_ He picks up one of the tenders and begins eating, and when he looks over Clarke is doing the same. _How would I explain it to anyone?_ Then, a thought hits him. _Oh god. What if Octavia somehow found out?_

Neither of them say anything else while they eat, with Bellamy scarfing his food down faster than he anticipated, and once they’re done Clarke grabs the trash and throws it away. “So, will you do it?” She asks as they walk back to her car, and Bellamy shoves his hands in his pockets as he looks at her out of the corner of his eye.

“I have to think about it.”

“What’s there to think about?”

“There’s a lot to think about, Clarke.” He looks at her over the roof of the car and then they both get in.

After a moment, Clarke is pulling back out onto the road, and Bellamy props his head up in his hand. “It won’t be a big deal if we did do it.”

“There’s more to think about than you know.”

“Like what?” She glances at him, and Bellamy draws in a deep breath.

“It’s just...a lot.”

They’re not far from the work site, but Clarke doesn’t say anything else in the last few minutes of the drive and Bellamy begins to wonder if he’s hurt her feelings somehow. He gets why she wants to do this. Hell, if he was in her position he’d probably want to do it, too, but he doesn’t know if it’s the right decision on his part. Does it sound like it would be fun? Definitely. Does it sound like it could lead to trouble? Yes, it does. Does he want to do it? _Fuck yes._

_For my own selfish reasons_. The thought sends a stab of pain through his chest as Clarke turns down the road he’s working on, and his hand clenches and unclenches in his lap. He wants to do this, not only because he thinks it’ll be fun, but also because he wants to be with her more. He wants to know what it would be like to act as if they’re dating without actually doing it. _Could I ever date her?_ He looks at her then, watching as she sits up a little straighter as she parks her car. He wants to think that he could, but at the same time he knows he’s not good for her. He could never be good enough for someone like her.

“So, I guess you’re saying no, huh?” Her voice is quiet as she asks, so much so that he almost missed it.

Bellamy turns to look at her, and much like the first night he met her she seems nervous, but also a little sad. “I’m not saying no, I’m just asking that you give me some time to think about it, okay?”

That doesn’t seem to make her feel any better, but she still looks up at him, smiling a little. “Okay.”

“Thanks for lunch, princess.” The words slip out of his mouth easily, like he planned to say them from the beginning, but he didn’t. And that makes his internal struggle even worse.

“You’re welcome, Bell.” She smiles even more as they look at each other, and Bellamy’s heart flips at the sound of the nickname coming from her lips before he forces himself to open the door to the car and get out. He doesn’t leave immediately, though, since he turns around and rests his arms on the top of the car as he leans down and looks at her.

“Next time you come give me a heads up. I don’t want the others to scare you.”

Clarke looks from him to the site and then back to him before biting at her bottom lip. “Definitely.”

He doesn’t want to leave, and he definitely doesn’t want to stop looking at her, but knows he doesn’t exactly have another choice as he smiles at her one last time and closes the door. He stands back on the sidewalk as she waves at him then pulls out of her parking spot, and Bellamy watches her until she’s down the road a little ways before heading back to work.

Everyone else seems to be getting back to their positions as he walks onto the packed dirt ground, and he can feel the others looking at him as he goes, but he ignores them. It’s not the first time someone has had a friend show up at the site, but no one else has looked like Clarke. He doesn’t want her to be ogled and looked at like an object. She’s a girl, a person, but the men he works with aren’t exactly the best when it comes to how they view women.

“Where’s your jailbait, Bellamy?” Dax asks, and something nearly snaps in Bellamy as he turns, but despite his fists balling up at his sides, he doesn’t hit the other guy. Instead, he grabs the front of Dax’s vest and presses him up against the pile of wood that’s been placed off to the side.

“Want to say that again?”

Despite Dax’s size, he doesn’t do or say anything as Bellamy glares at him and after a moment Bellamy lets him go before he turns around to look at everyone else. “Does anyone else have anything they want to say?” They all just keep looking at him. “Do you?” He looks around, and everyone stays silent. “The next person I hear talking about her is getting fired.”

“You can’t do that, you’re not Pike!” Dax yells from behind him, and Bellamy whirls on him.

“If I tell Pike you should be gone then you’re gone. You’re already on thin fucking ice, Dax, you might want to keep that in mind the next time you want to be a smartass.” The other guy glares at him as Bellamy turns and heads back to the barely-framed building, and he sighs as he pulls on his gloves and puts on his hardhat. _Fuckers_. 

For the rest of the day, Clarke is on his mind more than before but when he finally pushes into his apartment, his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, smiling at her name.

_In all seriousness though, your shirt is really soft_

He types out his response as he heads towards the bathroom, then he puts his phone on the counter after he hits send.

_I know. That’s why I liked it so much_

He can hear his phone buzz while he’s in the shower, and of course he’s too impatient to wait until he’s actually out to see what she said, so he pokes his head out from around the shower curtain and looks.

_Then why did you give it to me?_

His heart flips.

_I have my reasons_

He leaves it at that though and Clarke either doesn’t want to talk to him or his last text confused her to the point where she didn’t know what to say because she doesn’t text him back. He thought that she might ask if he’s made up his mind yet, but she doesn’t. And he doesn’t know if he has.

He wants to say yes, but there are so many things influencing that decision that he needs to be careful. If he says yes, things are going to change, but there are some things that can’t. 

He just needs to make himself realize that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D <<< my face the entire time writing this lol
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx
> 
> P.S. I don't have chapter 6 written yet and I have a lot of school work that I need to do so I'm not sure if I'll be able to update next Monday but I'll post it whenever I can!


	6. Chapter 6

Bellamy knew he was going to say yes. He just couldn’t tell Clarke. He’s never pretended to be dating someone when he wasn’t, but even though there’s the word “fake,” there’s also “dating” and even though he hasn’t dated anyone in a while, he remembers what it was like. Kissing, hand holding, cuddling, and—

He groans as he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, rolling onto his back. _That_ is something he can’t let himself think about and it’s also one of the ground rules he’s going to have to set. Hell, he doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to kiss her, if he’s being honest. The night he brought her home and she asked for a goodnight kiss he should have known that she wasn’t going to let him get away with just kissing her cheek, and she didn’t. Now, they’re going to have to pretend like they’re dating? Just the concept of _dating_ means at least kissing the person.

_What is she going to expect?_ He’s going to have to meet her parents even if she didn’t outright tell him, but what would she want him to do when he does? Is she going to want to tell her friends? Who else are they going to have to convince? He doesn’t know what she had in mind when she first brought it up and, now, he’s not sure if he even wants to know. He wants to help her and, again, it seems like it would be a lot of fun but... _can I do this?_

He reaches over towards his nightstand blindly and grabs his phone, looking at the time. It’s been a little over a week since Clarke brought him to lunch and during that time she hasn’t asked him about whether or not he’s going to say yes, but he knows he can’t leave her in suspense for forever. They’ve still talked—a lot actually—and he pulls his text thread with her. 

Taking a deep breath and biting the inside of his cheek, he types out a text to her.

_We need to talk_ _  
_ _I can pick you up and we can go get something to eat_

He lets the deep breath out slowly before locking his phone and rolling off his bed, and he takes a moment to calm his nerves before padding towards his bathroom. He puts his ringer on and then sets his phone on the counter, turning on the shower before shoving off his boxers. 

The water is hot when he steps under it and he tries to will his mind to go blank as he bathes. He knows that he’s going to have to sit down and actually talk with Clarke about what they’re going to do and what they’re not going to do, and he really doesn’t want to bring up the fact that they _can’t_ have sex. He’s been doing good, in his opinion, over the past week with _not_ thinking about her and the night they met, but if he’s going to have to spend even more time around her _and_ act like they’re dating…his phone goes off and he pokes his head around the shower curtain to look at it.

_I’ll come to your place and then we can go get something to eat :)_

Bellamy’s heart flips as he makes out the message and then he hurries with the rest of his shower. _God, I can’t believe I’m about to do this._ He has to be crazy, right? He’s about to say yes to fake dating a girl he wants to sleep with and can’t seem to stop accidentally flirting with her. _She said there’s some kind of connection between us but it doesn’t have to go in that direction_. Does he think there’s a connection between them? Yes. Is he worried about what that means? Yes.

And yet here he is, about to dive head first into something that can only end in a disaster. 

_No, it doesn’t_ , he tries to tell himself. _She said that it didn’t have to be for long, so it won’t be for forever. A few months and then we’ll stay friends._ He wants to be friends with her and he knows that is part of the reason why he wants to do this. Friends help friends out and just how he helped Monty get Harper’s number, he wants to help Clarke piss off her parents. After all, it won’t be the first time he’s done that, but it will be the first time he’s done it on purpose.

He’s just pulled on his jeans and is grabbing a t-shirt when a knock comes at his front door and he begins to wonder if Clarke memorized his address even though she’s only been here once. Sure enough when he looks through the peephole Clarke is standing on the other side of it with her hair pulled into a braid and her hands in her back pockets. She looks down the hall as she bites the inside of her cheek and Bellamy smiles as he opens the door.

“Stalking me?” He asks and Clarke starts a little at his voice.

“You wish.” She smirks a little as he motions for her to walk into the apartment. 

Her shirt is a dark, charcoal gray, another v-neck, and she’s wearing leggings instead of jeans this time. When she turns around to look at him Bellamy can feel his mouth go dry as they gaze at each other and then there’s a little voice in the back of his head screaming for him to tell her no and that he can’t do what she wants. But, as usual, when it comes to Clarke he doesn’t listen.

“So, any reason why you wanted to drive here instead of me coming to get you?” He crosses his arms over his chest and Clarke looks down, staring at his arms for a moment before looking away from him completely.

“I was at my parents’. If you aren’t going to say yes then I didn’t want them asking you questions.”

_Fair enough_. She looks back up at him, biting her bottom lip slightly and _god_ if he doesn’t want to pick up where they left off a month ago. He nods his head a little then moves to grab his keys and pull on his shoes. “Where do you want to go to eat?”

“You pick,” she says as she sidles up next to him. “I chose last time.”

“Alright, then.” He smiles down at her as he opens the door again and he doesn’t miss the way Clarke’s cheeks turn pink for a second as he follows her out of the door. 

She stays close to him as they make their way towards the elevator and then when they’re at his truck he opens the door for her and she smiles softly up at him before sliding into the passenger seat. Bellamy’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest as he slides into the driver’s seat and he swallows around the nerves that are beginning to form in his throat.

He doesn’t have a specific place in mind as he pulls out onto the road but when he looks over at Clarke he realizes that she must be as nervous as he is. Her hands are clasped in her lap and she’s steadily chewing on her cheek and when she looks over at him her eyes are a little wide and her smile a little worried, but Bellamy leans over and knocks his elbow into hers.

“Nervous?”

“A little.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it and suddenly Bellamy feels really bad for making her feel this way.

“I’m saying yes, Clarke,” he says softly, and she turns towards him, her eyes wide for an entirely new reason.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles a little but he doesn’t have to look over to see how wide she’s smiling. “But there has to be a few rules.

“Like what?”

“Why don’t we get some food and then we can talk?” He pulls up to a red light and looks at her and Clarke continues to smile as she nods her head. He can practically feel the excitement radiating off her and it makes him happy. _Really_ happy. He was originally planning for the two of them to go back to the park or to actually sit inside of a restaurant for them to eat, but now he just wants to get some food and then head back to the apartment. He pushes that thought away, though, knowing that they’re going to need some space to talk and being in his apartment while they do it doesn’t seem like the best idea. If only because he doesn’t exactly want to be alone with her because one look from her and he’s pretty sure he’ll do whatever she asks.

“Where are we going?” She asks, looking around, and Bellamy shrugs.

“Do you want actual food or ice cream?”

“I like ice cream,” she grins, and Bellamy laughs a little.

“Okay, then I have another place in mind.”

They go to his favorite ice cream shop and, he has to admit, Clarke is pretty adorable when she’s trying to figure out which flavor she wants. He pushes that out of his head though as they make their way back to his truck and then he drives to the closest park and stops in a spot closest to the water under a tree. He rolls the window down while they dig into their ice cream, and Clarke turns sideways in his passenger seat, looking at him.

“You’re really saying yes?” Her blue eyes look even brighter in the sunlight and Bellamy can feel his heart beating fast as he looks from her to his ice cream.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Why?”

When he looks at her again, he smiles. “It could be fun.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Just fun?”

“Well,” he shrugs, “I’m always looking to cause a little trouble.” He turns back to his ice cream, scraping his spoon around the rim. “But, I need to know what you want to get out of it. We’re not actually going to be dating so things are different.”

“How so?” Clarke keeps her eyes on him as she flips her spoon around and sucks on it, like that night at Sonic, and Bellamy’s eyes drop to her mouth for a second before his tongue comes out to wet his lips and he looks back at his ice cream.

“Well, first off, no kissing.”

“What?” Clarke’s eyebrows shoot up towards her hairline. “How is that off limits?”

“Because, you don’t need to have everyone seeing you make out with someone to have them get the hint that you’re dating.”

“So, no sort of kissing at all? Not even cheek kisses?” 

This time, Bellamy raises an eyebrow back at her. Though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer before he even asks the question. “Why do you want us to kiss so bad, Clarke?” 

“I don’t.” She looks away from him and down at her ice cream, her cheeks turning bright pink. “But we’re going to have to do _something_ when you’re around my parents.”

“And you really want us to kiss around them?”

“I mean, not like _kiss_ kiss but, you know, like cheek kisses and stuff,” she mumbles, and Bellamy takes a deep breath.

“Okay, _fine_. Cheek kisses.” He runs a hand through his hair and decides not to look at her, though he’s pretty sure he can see her sly smile out of the corner of his eye.

“What else?”

Now, Bellamy can feel himself blushing as he stabs his spoon into a particularly hard spot of ice cream. “No sex.”

He can hear Clarke’s sharp intake of breath over the slight breeze that’s flitting through the truck and when he looks back over at her, she’s red down to her chest. But he can’t blame her, even he feels hot.

“You’ve already made that clear,” she says roughly, and Bellamy can feel his jaw clench.

“I know, but I just want to make sure that this is strictly a friend helping a friend, no—”

“No getting ideas. Got it,” she says, nodding her head a little, and Bellamy finds himself doing the same.

“Good.”

_God, I wish the ground would open up and swallow me._ It had to be said and he knows that it had to be said, but that doesn’t make it any easier to actually talk about it. They sit there for a moment just eating their ice cream and Bellamy revels in the feeling of the cold desert cooling him down. 

“When you said that you wanted to know what I wanted out of this,” she begins, still looking down at her ice cream, and Bellamy turns to look at her. “I don’t have a specific thing in mind. I just...I’m tired of them treating me like I’m a little kid who needs them to make all of my decisions for me.”

“And you think the best way to do that is to make them believe you’re dating a broke guy that’s five years older than you?” It’s meant to be a tease, but when moves her eyes to his, they’re hard and her lips are pressed into a thin line. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“I’ve already told you that’s not why I chose you, okay? I…” she trails off, looking away from him for a moment and biting at her bottom lip. “You make me feel safe,” she whispers. “And I’d rather have restrictions with you then trying to actually find someone to date who doesn’t know.”

He doesn’t need her to clarify what she means by " _know_." Him not wanting to take her virginity is the whole reason why they’re here in the first place. If he had, then maybe they would be dating right now. _Actually_ dating. Not fake dating to piss off her parents but dating because they like each other and pissing her parents off would just come with the situation. But he couldn’t do it and now he feels like he’s making a deal with the devil. A beautiful, blonde-haired blue-eyed devil sitting in the seat next to him.

“Hey,” he reaches over and touches her knee with his knuckles. “I’ve already agreed. I’m not going anywhere.”

That seems to make her feel a little better because she smiles a little at him, even if it is just the corners of her mouth curling up, and then she’s placing her ice cream on the dash as she pulls out her phone.

“Can I take a picture of you?”

“Why?” Bellamy asks, a little stunned, and she grins at him from around her phone.

“Snapchat.”

Bellamy laughs a little as he moves back to take a bite of his ice cream. “Sure.”

He can’t hear the shutter go off but when Clarke doesn’t stop smiling and she grabs her ice cream again, he assumes she got the picture that she wanted. “My mom checks my Snapchat all the time,” she explains as she types a few things out, “so, when she sees this either texts or calls me we’ll just have to go from there.”

“You weren’t wanting to wait for this, were you?” He asks, another laugh bubbling up in his chest, and when Clarke turns towards him she smiles softly.

“No. Is that okay?”

_Fuck it._ “Yeah, it’s okay.” He smiles at her and Clarke ducks her head before taking another bite of her ice cream.

~

Eventually they’re back at his apartment and it seems to be understood that Clarke was just going to come back inside with him because neither of them say anything as they both kick off their shoes at the door. If Bellamy’s being honest it’s a little weird having her there, since she hasn’t been here after the morning _after_ , but seeing her sitting on his couch feels...good. 

They’re friends. Friends sit on their friend’s couches. 

“Want anything to drink?” He asks, and she smirks.

“Beer?” She bats her eyelashes at him a couple of times and Bellamy stands there for a moment before he shakes his head. 

“Another rule: no drinking.”

“What?” Clarke gasps, but Bellamy doesn’t look at her as he pulls out a half gallon of lemonade.

“If I’m going to upset your parents by just existing then I don’t want them thinking I’m contributing to your delinquency.” He turns, raising an eyebrow at her, and Clarke crosses her arms over her chest.

“They already know I drink,” she huffs, and Bellamy fights the smile that’s trying to spread on his face.

“Do they really, though?” 

Clarke doesn’t stop glaring at him as he pours them each a cup of lemonade and then he walks over and hands her one of the cups before sitting on the other side of the couch. 

He watches her out of the corner of his eye as she takes a sip of her drink and then she looks around. “So, what do you do for fun here?” 

“Usually someone comes over and we play video games.” He points towards his console on his T.V. stand. “But we can put on a movie or something.”

“Do you have Call of Duty?” She asks, her eyes wide, and Bellamy looks at her for a second.

“I have Black Ops IV—”

“Can we play that?” 

“Sure.”

So, Bellamy sets up the game while Clarke sips on her lemonade and then the two of them are both back on the couch as the loading screen comes up. He looks over at her out of the corner of his eye, wondering if she feels comfortable being here, but there’s nothing on her face that would suggest otherwise. 

And that’s how they stay. Playing Black Ops while every now and then they both yell at the T.V., and when Clarke’s phone starts ringing he can see _Mom_ on the screen but Clarke only silences it before turning her phone face down and getting back into the game. He’s not entirely sure what he's gotten himself into but he and Clarke are friends. If she wants his help then he’ll give it to her.

Even if he’s pretty sure she’s going to drive him mad by the end of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was there ever a doubt that she wouldn't?
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! I'm sorry I've been gone for a while. I have a lot I need to do within the next two weeks and I've been in kind of a writing rut, but I'll try and get back on an update schedule soon :)

Of course, with Monty dating Harper it was inevitable for him to find out about the arrangement Bellamy agreed to with Clarke. Bellamy, however, just didn’t think about it. So, when Monty shows up a few days later with Jasper in tow, Bellamy shouldn’t be as surprised as he is.

When Bellamy opens the door, Monty’s eyebrows raise under his dark hair and both of his hands are stuffed in his pockets, and Bellamy hardly has a second to motion for them to come in when Monty says, “So, you’re dating Harper’s roommate?”

 _Dammit._ Again, he just didn’t think about it. “We’re not dating,” he sighs as he closes the doors behind his friends, then he shoves his hands in his pockets, too.

“Because _fake_ dating doesn’t actually mean _dating_ , right?” Monty turns, his eyebrows still raised. 

“She wants to—”

“Piss off her parents, yeah, I know,” Monty snorts. 

Bellamy crosses his arms over his chest. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s Saturday,” Jasper says, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It’s game night.”

 _Shit. I forgot about that._ “Right,” Bellamy says, looking between his friends. “Who brought the beer?”

“It was your turn!” Jasper calls over his shoulder as he opens the fridge, and Bellamy sighs.

 _Forgot that, too_. “Who wants to come to the store with me?”

~

Even though his friends aren’t saying anything about the situation he agreed to with Clarke, Bellamy can’t help but feel awkward which is the worst thing for him to feel right now. He’s still trying to figure out more ground rules to set with Clarke which has occupied his mind for days at this point, and now he has two of his friends sitting next to him while they play video games and he wants to know what they’re thinking. Usually, he wouldn’t care about what others think, but with how him and Clarke met, he doesn’t know how much Monty knows or how much he’s told Jasper. Hell, he doesn’t even know if _Clarke_ knows that Monty knows. 

When Bellamy gets killed in the game he has to wait until a new round begins, so he sinks back into his couch and takes a sip of his beer. _What if Clarke doesn’t know that Monty knows? Or was she the one who told him? Did she talk to Harper_ — _of course she talked to Harper_. Bellamy glances at his friends then decides to pull his phone out of his pocket, not going immediately to his text messages so neither of them realize what he’s doing, but apparently he’s not subtle enough. 

“Tell Clarke I say hi,” Monty says, not even taking his eyes off the T.V., and Bellamy rolls his eyes. 

But, he doesn’t say anything as he goes to his text messages with Clarke. His fingers hover over the keyboard, wondering how exactly he should word it. Of course, he could just ask Monty if it was Clarke who told him or Harper, but he doesn’t want to open up that conversation yet. 

_Monty and Jasper came over and both of them know_

_Monty says hi, too_

He locks his phone and puts it face down on his leg as a new round begins, and then he tries to calm his nerves. It’s not like what he’s doing is wrong. Yes, Clarke is five years younger than him, but Harper is probably three years younger than Monty, and Murphy had a thing with a married woman for a bit that was ten years older than he was, so they can’t give him shit for this. Not that what Monty said was exactly giving him shit, but it was teetering on the edge. 

His phone buzzes.

 _Yeah, Harper told me. Apparently I didn’t make it clear that he wasn’t to be told_ _  
__But hi Monty!_

Bellamy blinks as he reads the message for a second time, then a third, until he glances at the screen before putting his controller down and typing out a message.

_I can tell him and Jasper not to tell anyone else if you don’t want them to_

“Clarke says hi,” Bellamy mutters as he presses send, and then he stares at the T.V. with his controller in his hands. “Who else knows?” 

Monty looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “Just us. Why?”

“It’s Clarke’s thing. So, if she doesn’t want anyone else to know, the two of you can’t tell anybody,” Bellamy says, with a pointed look towards Jasper, and then his phone buzzes again.

_People can know, I mean, that is part of the whole thing, right?_

Bellamy takes a silent deep breath and then another sip of his beer.

 _Right._ _  
__So, with that out of the way, what exactly are we going to say?_

The bubbles indicating that Clarke is texting show up immediately, and Bellamy forgets the game as he watches them disappear then reappear. _We really should have talked about this earlier_. But, if he’s being honest, he only thought about her family being told about them. 

_We can tell them we met at a bar, but maybe not the 21+ bar because I don’t want to give my mom a heart attack_

_And we don’t have to talk about...after the bar_

Bellamy smiles.

_Don’t worry, princess, that secret is safe with me_

Bellamy continues to smile as he presses send and then he drowns what’s left of his beer before getting up to grab another one. If there’s anything that’s going to come out of their situation, it’s the fact that he can actually talk to her now without worrying about it being too much. Because they’re friends. 

_Just friends_.

“Grab me another one, too!” Monty calls.

“Me, too!”

Bellamy grabs three beers then turns and makes his way back towards the couch, handing out the bottles as he goes before settling back into his spot. The day he said yes to Clarke’s plan, her mom had called but she didn’t answer it, and Bellamy hasn’t asked what she’s said. Though, now, since two of his friends know he’s tempted to ask her what’s happened. 

From the little he’s learned about her family, he would be lying if he said he was excited to meet them. Her mom seems too much like a helicopter parent that would eat him alive as soon as he steps through her door, but he doesn’t know too much about her dad. _But if her mom is like that then her dad probably isn’t much different_.

After that, he and Clarke text between him playing the game and the tension that’s been in him begins to ebb away. He asks her about her most recent drawing and how her classes are going, and in turn she asks him how game night is going. Don’t get him wrong, Bellamy loves hanging out with his friends, but right now hanging out with Clarke seems a lot more appealing. At least then he wouldn’t have to be worried about more questions getting thrown his way. 

But, he doesn’t tell her that and he _definitely_ doesn’t tell Monty and Jasper that, so he just lets himself get swept back up into the game and the beer he’s drinking. Even though he might be waiting for any sign that Clarke may have texted him a little more than he usually does. 

~

A few hours and a decent amount of beers later, Bellamy is shuffling into his kitchen to get a bottle of water when his phone vibrates in his hand, and he pulls it up to look at it. It’s from Clarke, obviously, but suddenly he’s having a very hard time processing the words in front of him.

_Mind if I come over?_

He knows what each word means individually, but in _that_ sentence? He turns slightly and looks to where Jasper is leaning back in the recliner and where Monty is beginning to fall asleep on the couch, and then he looks at the time. It’s only ten, which isn’t that late, but it’s been a lazy Saturday and Bellamy is getting a little tired.

But his hands don’t seem like they want to listen to that.

_Sure_

Bellamy stares at his text as _delivered_ shows up under it, and then he looks down at the water in his hand and towards the trash can. _How much have I had to drink?_ He locks his phone and slips it into the pocket of his sweats and then unscrews the lid to his bottle and takes a sip. He doesn’t _feel_ drunk, but he’s at least tipsy. He knows that much.

Then, a knock comes at his door.

Bellamy’s eyes widen as he looks at it over his bottle of water, and he can hear his friends shifting around on the furniture behind him as he moves towards it. He doesn’t bother looking through the peephole to see who it is, he already has a feeling. The door swings open and _god_ Bellamy is a dead man.

Clarke is standing in the hallway with her hands clasped in front of her, biting at her bottom lip, and she smiles as she looks up at him through her eyelashes. Every thought he’s ever tried to push out of his mind comes back and nearly knocks him off balance as he stares at her, and he swallows. _She’s here._

“Hey,” she says softly, and Bellamy’s throat works but nothing comes out.

“Who is it?” Jasper calls, seemingly not tired anymore, and Bellamy moves back out of the doorway and motions for Clarke to come in. 

He runs his hand over the back of his neck as he closes the door behind her, and then he looks over at his friends who are staring at the two of them. “Jasper, this is Clarke. Clarke, this is Jasper,” Bellamy says, making the introductions, and Clarke smiles brightly.

“Hey. How was the hangover after that night at the bar?”

Jasper’s eyes widen a little. “You were at the bar?”

“I helped Bellamy wrestle you into the truck and then he gave me a ride home.” Clarke kicks off her shoes and then makes her way towards his fridge, seemingly a lot more comfortable than Bellamy would have expected with this being only the fourth time she’s been to his place, but Jasper’s wide-eyed and half hurt expression gets his attention.

“She was at the bar and you didn’t _tell me?”_

Bellamy shrugs. “Didn’t think about it.”

Jasper glares at him for a moment. “Uh-huh.”

Clarke slides into one of the stools at the bar as she sips on a bottle of lemonade, and Bellamy takes a moment to look at her. Her makeup is done and half of her hair has been pinned up, and as she looks at him while she takes a sip of her drink her eyes look a little brighter. Then, she smiles.

“What were you doing on this side of town?”

She lifts a shoulder. “Wells and I went out. I dropped my car off here earlier.”

“What?” Bellamy asks, his eyebrows arching towards his hairline, and Clarke giggles.

“GPS, remember?” She says softly, low enough to where he’s pretty sure Monty and Jasper can’t hear, and he nods his head slowly.

“Right. GPS.”

“So Wells and I took an Uber back here because I didn’t feel like going home.”

“Are you drunk?”

Clarke smirks as she moves to take another sip of her lemonade, which is all Bellamy needs to know that she’s at least tipsy.

“I wouldn’t say I’m _drunk_.” Then she giggles again. 

“You can be!” Jasper offers, jumping out of the recliner and making his way towards the kitchen. “We have a few beers left but I don’t know if you actually _like_ beer…”

“You’re not going to get her drunk, Jasper,” Bellamy sighs, moving to close the fridge door whether his friend moves his head or not.

“Bell doesn’t want my parents to think he’s contributing to my delinquency,” Clarke adds with another soft giggle, and Bellamy is pretty sure his heart is going to beat out of his chest if he hears it one more time.

“Wow. You’re a lame boyfriend,” Monty snorts from the couch, and Bellamy runs a hand through his hair. “Didn’t the two of you _meet_ at a bar?”

“I had a hangover the next morning.” Clarke’s face scrunches up. “It wasn’t fun.”

Before Bellamy can say anything, Clarke yawns before sliding off the stool, then she’s looking at him, chewing a little at her bottom lip. “Can I have some clothes to change into?” She asks softly, and Bellamy’s jaw clenches for a moment.

“Sure.” He leads the way to his bedroom, with the sound of Clarke following behind him, and opens the door and motions for her to go into the room first before following behind her. She stands in front of his bed, her arms wrapped around herself as Bellamy moves towards his dresser.

“I’m sorry for just springing myself on you,” she says after a moment, so quiet that Bellamy is surprised he even heard her. “I don’t mean to put you out.”

“Believe me, you’re not.” He turns towards her with another pair of sweatpants and t-shirt in his hands then he holds them out for her. He runs one of his hands over the back of his neck, looking down at her. “I, uh, I know that the no-drinking rule is stupid—”

“No, I get it.” Clarke smiles a little. “We can’t exactly have my parents thinking you’re getting me drunk every other night.”

“Do they know you drink?”

“Yeah. I mean, they’ve only caught me drunk once when I was coming home from prom, and my mom knows when I’m at a bar.”

 _Right._ “Yeah, so, if you want a beer, then—”

“Are you sure _you’re_ not drunk?” Clarke asks, stepping towards him, and Bellamy’s breath gets caught in his lungs. They’re not touching yet, but she’s close enough to where he can see the dark ring of blue around the edges of her eyes and the way her bottom eyelashes nearly brush the tops of her cheeks. 

Bellamy’s eyes slide to her mouth for a moment, but then the look is gone and he hopes that Clarke didn’t notice it. “I wouldn’t say I’m _drunk_ ,” he says, a lazy smile making its way onto his lips as he repeats her words from earlier, and Clarke’s face lights up as she laughs again.

“Uh-huh.” She shakes her head before looking towards the bedroom door. “So, it’s okay if I stay here tonight?”

She seems nervous as she asks, and Bellamy really wishes he could reach out and touch her. But he doesn’t trust himself to be able to do that and not end up kissing her.

“Always,” he says, still smiling at her, and Clarke’s smile softens. “I’ll let you get changed.”

He walks out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him, and then he makes his way back out into the living room. _If Monty is sleeping on the couch and Jasper is sleeping on the recliner, then..._ He’s either going to have to sleep on the floor or in bed with Clarke. _I can’t do that. What if I wake up and we’re sleeping_ together _? Maybe we could put a pillow or two between us…_

“So, she’s staying the night?” Monty asks, and Bellamy looks over at his friend. He’s already sprawled out on the couch and Jasper has taken the recliner up again, huddled under a knit blanket with the hood of his sweatshirt up.

“Yeah, she is.” Bellamy looks towards the floor in front of the coffee table. _Maybe I could make a pallet…_

“And you’re going to sleep in the bed with her?” Asks Jasper, and Bellamy takes a silent, deep breath.

“It’s not like that.”

“ _Yet_ ,” Monty yawns.

“Bellamy shakes his head. “Night.”

Their _goodnight_ s follow him down the hall, and Bellamy goes to the bathroom rather than the bedroom. He and Clarke haven’t talked about whether or not she would actually need to be sleeping over at his place, but there’s nothing wrong with it. Well, at least it would be better if his couch was free so then he could give her the bed like that first night. 

By the time he finishes up using the bathroom he assumes that Clarke has probably fallen asleep, since he didn’t hear the door to his room open, so he’s quiet as he makes his way towards the door. Except as soon as his hand is on the handle, he hears something.

It’s faint, and barely audible over the sound of the T.V. in the living room, but Bellamy freezes all the same. At first, it would seem like Clarke’s maybe having a nightmare with the sounds she’s making but then, “ _Bellamy.”_ His name comes out like a soft gasp, and it’s enough to have him reaching down to readjust himself in his sweatpants.

 _Fuck._ He closes his eyes. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ He should get away from the door. He should go into the kitchen and get some ice water or, better yet, jump in a freezing cold shower, but he can’t seem to move. He’s rooted where he stands, listening as Clarke’s breathing becomes faster and more ragged. _Did she touch herself that first night, too? Or was she too embarrassed?_ He thinks about that first night and the way she seemed so nervous but gave back everything he gave her. “Bellamy,” she whines softly, and Bellamy’s head falls forward against the door frame.

“Bell—” his name gets stuck in her throat and there’s a soft, low moan that drifts into Bellamy’s ears and echoes in his mind, and it’s overwhelming. So overwhelming that Bellamy doesn’t realize that he’s palming at himself over his sweats until he comes into his boxers. 

His eyes snap open and the pleasure that he was feeling disappears, being replaced by guilt. _Why the fuck did I do that?_ It all happened so fast, but he can’t take it back. One second he’s readjusting himself and the next he’s hearing Clarke say his name as she comes and he’s coming, too. 

Bellamy wipes a hand over his face as he swears under his breath, and then he makes his way towards the laundry closet and grabs another pair of boxers and sweats, then makes his way into the bathroom. 

Guilt consumes him as he changes. How could he tell Clarke that they can’t have sex but turn around and get off to listening lol o her get herself off? It’s not right. And neither is him listening in the first place. He _knows_ that. But he did it anyway.

Now, he’s going to have to go into the bedroom like nothing happened. Like she didn’t get herself off and that he didn’t...Bellamy sighs and runs both of his hands through his hair. _God. This is so fucked up._ He fucked up and now he has to live with the consequences. 

He splashes some cold water on his face and then decides to brush his teeth, but when he’s done he’s tired and he just wants to go to sleep. So, taking a deep breath he walks out of the bathroom and back towards his bedroom, and he takes another deep breath before he pushes inside. He can just make out Clarke lying on her side under the covers and a big enough spot for him to lay down beside her, and Bellamy tries his best to be quiet as he makes his way towards it. 

She doesn’t move as he gets into bed beside her, but the thought of actually touching her in the night makes his chest feel tight and his heart race. So, like any rational person, he decides to take the two pillows from under his head and lines them up between them under the covers. 

Clarke doesn’t wake up for that either and once Bellamy settles back into his spot, he finds he can breathe a little easier. He closes his eyes, willing his mind to go black, but as he falls asleep, every little noise that Clarke makes sends his mind down a path he doesn’t want to go down.

Needless to say, Bellamy Blake doesn’t get much sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...thoughts? Comments? Any burning questions? I love hearing from all of you!
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up everybody? :)
> 
> If y’all haven’t seen — I now have a moodboard at the beginning of chapter 1 :)

When Bellamy wakes up the next morning, his eyes open to Clarke laying beside him, her body wrapped around the pillows he placed between them. Her lips are parted slightly and she’s snoring a little, but she looks so serene that Bellamy almost doesn’t want to get out of bed and disturb her. That is, until he remembers what happened the night before.

The memory settles on his chest like a weight, and suddenly he feels like he can’t breathe. _Alright. I need to get out of here_. Slowly, he moves to roll out of the bed, his neck cramping from how he slept, and when he stands he doesn’t bother to stretch before tiptoeing his way to the door. _Jesus Christ, why did that have to happen?_

It’s only when he’s out in the hallway that he stretches out his arms and yawns, then he tries to stretch out his neck a little, too. He can’t hear Clarke snoring now, but he can definitely hear Jasper in the living room and he wonders how much longer everyone is going to sleep. It isn’t until he goes to pull his phone out of his pocket that he realizes that he left it in the bedroom. But he’s not going to go back to get it. 

He shuffles his way into the kitchen and opens his fridge. _Wow. Nothing_. There’s a half gallon of orange juice that he’s pretty sure is bad, and then there’s still a good bit of beer, and a baked pork loin that he hasn’t thrown out yet, along with some shredded cheese, cream cheese, condiments, salsa, and butter. So, there’s not _nothing_ , but everything that he has needs other things to go with it for it to actually be a meal. He doesn’t even have any sandwich meat to make lunch for work.

Bellamy takes a deep breath and closes the fridge door, then stretches for a second time before running a hand through his hair. _I don’t even know how much money is in my bank account_. He got the beer last night because it was his turn, but spending twenty dollars wasn’t much. Going full-on grocery shopping on the other hand is a different story.

“I’m hungry,” Jasper yawns from the recliner, and Bellamy crosses his arms over his chest as he turns to look at his friend.

“Well, I haven’t gone grocery shopping yet.”

“Why?” Monty groans, and Bellamy fights back the urge to roll his eyes. 

He doesn’t respond as Jasper rolls out of the chair and makes his way into the kitchen, too, and then he opens the door to the fridge, pouts, then opens the door to the freezer. “Wow. There really is nothing.”

“I know.”

Monty and Jasper begin grumbling to one another and then Bellamy turns and grabs a keurig pod out of the cabinet before putting it into the machine. In high school, there were a lot of mornings where all he would do is drink coffee and then wait until lunch to eat, since his mom rarely had anything for them to eat for breakfast, and he’s fine with doing that now, but he has guests. _Clarke_ is a guest, and he knows she’s going to wake up hungry. 

By the time his coffee is done he turns around in time to see her walking down the hallway, one hand covering her yawn as the other runs through her hair as a make-shift brush. When she opens her eyes, they settle on Bellamy and the guilt that got pushed away by him worrying about breakfast comes back. His jaw clenches and his hand flexes on the counter that it’s gripping, but then he watches as Clarke’s cheeks turn pink and she looks down.

_Does she know?_

The terror from that thought goes through him, but when she peeks up at him through her lashes, he comes back to rational thought. _She’s embarrassed because of what she did. Not because she knows I was listening._ Though, that thought doesn’t make him feel better, either. As he looks at her he can feel the back of his neck heat up, and the tips of his ears, and he tries to hide behind his coffee mug. 

“Good morning,” she says softly, and Bellamy’s friends mumble it back as Clarke moves to take up one of the stools at the counter. She folds her hands in front of her as she leans on to it, and Bellamy watches as she tugs at her bottom lip for a moment. “Could I make some coffee?” She asks, eyeing his cup, and out of all of the things Bellamy was expecting her to say, somehow the simplest question wasn’t part of it.

“Yeah. Of course.”

Clarke smiles a little as she slides off the stool and Bellamy opens the cabinet that holds all of his keurig pods. He gives her some space, partly so she has room to look but also because he’s pretty sure he’d drop his mug if she accidentally touched him. 

It doesn’t take long until Clarke is back on the stool, and then Jasper is groaning again. 

“Bellamy I’m starving.”

Bellamy shot his friend a look, wondering if he could somehow convince them not to let on to the fact that he doesn’t have any food in front of Clarke but, of course, that doesn’t do anything.

“Me, too. What are we doing for breakfast?” She asks, sipping on her coffee, and Bellamy runs a hand over the back of his neck.

“Uh, I don’t exactly have anything to eat—”

“He really doesn’t,” Jasper chimes in, and Bellamy narrows his eyes at him. 

“But—”

“We can go out and eat,” Clarke says, smiling. “My treat.” 

“No, Clarke. You don’t have—”

“You let me spend the night again, Bellamy. The least I can do is get breakfast this time.” 

She leaves no room for arguing because before he can answer, she turns and heads back towards his bedroom, leaving Bellamy staring after her. He can feel his two friends looking at him but he just turns his attention back to his coffee before he makes his way towards the bathroom.

_Well...if she wants to buy breakfast then I guess I can’t complain._

~

Clarke drives all of them to a diner that’s about ten minutes away from his apartment, and Bellamy opens the door for Clarke to walk in first, with Monty and Jasper giving him strange looks as they follow her into the building. But, of course, they would leave him the seat right beside her, and Bellamy tries to keep his hand on his knee to keep it from jumping up and down. 

He’s starving, but he’s not sure what he should get to eat. Sure, Clarke said she would pay, but he already feels bad enough that she has to pay to begin with. _If I had gone grocery shopping and at least got breakfast food then we wouldn’t be here right now_. 

Bellamy’s eyes scan over the menu and then he looks over and tries to see if he can tell what Clarke is getting. It’s not that anything on the menu is _expensive_ , but he’s never felt right ordering something that could cost more than what the buyer is getting. But, he also doesn’t feel particularly hungry, even though he knows that he needs to eat. 

_Maybe I could just get away with a coffee and a donut or something_. He’s already had a cup of coffee and he knows that if he has more on an empty stomach he’s going to be jittery until he can get some groceries. But, just when he begins to wonder if he should get an omelet, Clarke’s knee bumps into his and Bellamy finds himself holding his breath. 

Riding in the car with her was one thing, since there was a console between the two of them and he could lean up against the passenger door away from her while she drove, but now they’ve been seated right beside each other and he can feel the guilt creeping back into his chest. _God, I’m such an idiot_. The memory of the night before comes back and he can feel himself swallowing hard, and then Clarke reaches across him for a napkin and Bellamy watches her left hand. 

_That_ doesn’t help, either.

Thankfully, though, the waitress comes to take their orders and Bellamy decides to order an omelet to distract himself, and he lets Monty and Jasper take over the conversation. He tries to think about what groceries he needs to get and then he starts wondering if he should call his mom and ask if she needs him to pick up anything for her and Octavia. Then that leads to him thinking about how Octavia’s schooling is going and figures he should text her and ask if she wants to come over for a bit.

Then, there’s a nudge to his side and when he looks over Clarke’s eyebrows are furrowed together a little even though she smiles slightly at him. “Everything okay?” She asks softly, and Bellamy nods his head a little.

“Yeah, I’m good. I just have stuff I need to do today.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to throw off your—”

“You didn’t,” Bellamy says, trying to keep Clarke from finishing the sentence. “Trust me.”

“We would be starving if you weren’t here,” Jasper says, bouncing in his seat a little when he sees the waitress bringing their food. 

Bellamy tries to shoot his friend a glare, but it disappears when his stomach growls as his plate is put in front of him. Despite his nerves and his guilt he _is_ hungry and he knows that if it wasn’t for Clarke then the three of them would have gone to McDonald’s which wouldn’t have helped their hunger for very long.

All of them begin to dig into their food with the knots in Bellamy’s stomach starting to disappear the more he eats, and he tries to let himself relax. Yes, what he did wasn’t good, but Clarke is in the same boat as him. He didn’t mean to, but she laid in his bed and got herself off on purpose. But fuck he wouldn’t be upset if it happened again. _At least she’s not entirely in the dark about this stuff._

The thought is in his head before he can catch it, and then he takes a silent, deep breath through his nose as he sits back and runs a hand through his hair. _I’m going to have to sleep on the couch tonight_.

~

When the waitress brings the check, Bellamy watches as Clarke takes out the platinum card she used the night they met. He can see Monty and Jasper looking at it, too, but neither of them say anything. Once Clarke is done paying, Bellamy is pretty sure he could take a nap, and then the four of them pile back into Clarke’s car and she pulls out onto the road, making her way back to Bellamy’s apartment. It’s not even noon yet and he’s not hungry, so he could ask Clarke to stay a little bit longer—assuming that she would even want to—but he doesn’t know if he should. After last night, he knows it would probably be best if the two of them spent the rest of the week apart, but…

They pull up to the curb in front of his apartment, and as the back doors to the car opens Monty leans in through the opening between the front seats. “Are you coming back up, Clarke?”

She looks from Monty to Bellamy, tugging at her bottom lip a little, and then Bellamy watches as the tops of her cheeks begin to turn pink. “I have to get back to campus, I have a test Monday,” she says, not looking away from Bellamy, and Monty nods his head.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Wednesday?” Bellamy asks, looking between the two of them.

“I’m picking up Harper for a date,” is all Monty says before he slides out of the car, and then he and Jasper are telling Clarke bye before making their way up the front steps of the apartment.

Bellamy’s hand moves to rest on the door handle, but he doesn’t open it. He almost feels like he should apologize, but this isn’t exactly something that can be brought up in normal conversation, and it’s not like Clarke is going to confess to getting herself off in his bed.

“So, I’ll see you soon?” He asks, and the soft smile from earlier is back.

“Yeah, definitely.” She looks like she’s going to say something else, but then she moves her gaze from him down to where her hands are sitting in her lap, and Bellamy tilts his head to the side as he looks at her.

“Something wrong?”

“Um...could we get another picture together?” She whispers, and when her blue eyes move up to look at him again, Bellamy feels like he can’t breathe for a second.

He gives her a lopsided smile. “You know, you don’t have to ask me.”

“I don't know, I just don’t want to corner you with a camera in your face.”

“This is what I agreed to, didn't I?” 

Clarke looks at him, that sweet look on her face, and she smiles as she pulls up her phone and goes to the camera. She leans on the center console and holds it up in front of them. She takes one picture, and then another, and when she readjusts her grip, Bellamy presses a kiss to her cheek as he hears the shutter click along with Clarke intake of breath. 

“That should give your mom something to talk about,” he teases, and then he opens the door. When he turns to look at her, that blush is back and she looks at him with wide eyes, like she’s shocked. “Thanks for breakfast, Princess.” 

“Thanks for letting me stay the night.” 

“Anytime.” Bellamy gets out of the car then with a smile and when he turns around to close the door, Clarke is still looking at him.

“Bye, Bellamy.”

“Bye, Clarke.”

He watches her drive down the road and when she turns out of sight Bellamy begins to make his way up the stairs of his apartment, only to find Monty and Jasper standing right inside the door. He stops, raising an eyebrow at them, and the two of them shove their hands in their pockets before making their way towards the elevators. _How much of that did they see?_ It’s not like he did anything _wrong_. Especially when Clarke has tricked him into giving her a kiss before. He agreed to be her fake boyfriend and that means taking pictures like a couple. Especially ones that would have her parents—namely her mom—wondering what was going on.

When he gets back into his apartment Bellamy jumps into the shower, leaving Monty and Jasper in his living room, and he tries to remember all of the things he told himself he needed to get from the store. When he gets out, he pads his way into his bedroom. He puts on some clean clothes then sits down at his desk and begins jotting down a grocery list when his phone buzzes.

It takes him a second to actually get around to looking at it, but when it does his heart leaps into his throat. It’s the three pictures that he took with Clarke, with the last one being him kissing her cheek. Looking at it, he knows he shouldn’t have done it. But, he did. 

It’s what he’s gotten himself into, and now he has to deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After that picture, I don't think Abby is going to let it go. Do you?
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many chapters will this fic be? I have no idea lol but let's say 15 is right at the moment

Bellamy was right. Clarke twenty minutes after Clarke left, she texted Bellamy with a screenshot of a message her mom sent her. 

_When will we get to meet your new boyfriend?_

Bellamy’s heart rate accelerated at the mere thought of meeting her mom, but it was what he agreed to. 

Throughout the week, Bellamy and Clarke still continued to text but she didn’t bring up the fact that her mom is beginning to push to meet him, which he didn’t mind, but he knew it wasn’t something they could put off forever. 

So, when Bellamy gets into his apartment that following Friday after work, he’s not surprised to feel his phone buzzing with a text from Clarke. 

_So...what would you say to a get together at my parents’ house tomorrow?_

Despite how exhausted he feels, the corners of his mouth turn up as he looks at the message. He kicks off his shoes and sets his phone on the counter, the text still up on the screen, and then he takes off his shirt and grabs a water from the fridge. _Does she think I’ll say no?_

He grabs his phone as he heads to his bedroom to grab a change of clothes for after his shower, then he decides to text her back. 

_I don’t have any plans_

He watches as she begins to type out her response as he moves towards the bathroom across the hall, and then his phone buzzes in his hands again.

_And what about tonight?_

Bellamy smiles.

_No plans tonight either_

_Do you want to come over?_

He turns on the water to the shower and pulls the shower curtain closed, looking back at his phone as another text appears.

_Possibly. What’s in it for me?_

Bellamy catches sight of himself in the bathroom mirror and he realizes he’s grinning like an idiot. 

_Getting to hangout with me_

The three dots appear, then disappear, then reappear again and Bellamy waits as he watches them, trying to breathe evenly as he takes another sip of his water. He knows he shouldn’t flirt with her, not that his text could really be considered _flirting_ , but this is practice for tomorrow. When they’ll actually have to act like they’re together.

 _True_ _  
_ _I’ll be there in an hour_

And with that, Bellamy hops into the shower.

~

True to her word, Clarke knocks on Bellamy’s door almost exactly an hour later, and when he opens it, she smiles as she holds up some grocery bags and pushes past him into his apartment. He raises an eyebrow at her and watches as she makes her way towards the kitchen counter and sets the bags onto it.

“What’s all that?” He asks, closing the door and locking it, and Clarke doesn’t even spare him a glance as she begins taking everything out of the bags.

“Food.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.”

He walks towards her, seeing the corner of her mouth tilt up as she pulls out a frozen, three meat DiGiorno pizza with stuffed crust and then some paper plates, bread, eggs, bacon, biscuits, milk, and lunch meat. Bellamy picks up the pizza and looks back at her, his eyebrow rising.

“Groceries?”

She shrugs. “I figured if I was spending the night again I could at least pay you back some of the food we’ll be eating in the morning.”

Bellamy tries to hide his smile as he leans onto the counter, looking down at her. “So, you’re just assuming I’ll let you stay the night? Maybe I want my bed to myself.”

Clarke blushes, the pinkness spreading across her cheeks, and she looks up at him for a moment, but then she grabs the milk and eggs and turns towards the fridge. “We have work to do tonight. Besides, my mom will know that I stayed the night here before we go over there tomorrow. It works out.”

“What work do we have to do?” Bellamy asks, his eyebrows furrowing together as he looks at her, and she looks at him over her shoulder.

“We’re supposed to be dating, but we don’t know anything about each other. We need to run over some answers.”

 _Right_. It’s been two months since that first night at the bar, and he’s learned a lot about what Clarke likes and her hobbies, but he doesn’t know what her favorite color is, or her favorite movie, or many stories about when she was younger. He’s heard a few about her and Wells, but they haven’t been friends for very long and he’s not sure how long her parents think they’ve been together.

Bellamy helps Clarke put the rest of the food up and then he looks at the directions on the back of the box and starts the oven. When he turns around, he’s acutely aware of the fact that Clarke is staring at him. Mainly his right arm, her eyes roaming over his tattoo with a look that he’s come to understand as her artist face. He’s caught her looking at it a few times, but she hasn’t tried to touch it again.

He lets himself look her over once, too, running his eyes from her hair that’s loose and laying over her shoulders to the white sweater she’s wearing and the black leggings, ending at the fuzzy gray socks that are on her feet. When he brings his eyes back to hers, her blush is back and she takes the pizza from his hands and puts it in the freezer.

“Do you have anything to drink?” 

“I have Dr. Pepper, lemonade—”

“Not what I had in mind,” Clarke sings, a smile spreading across her face, and Bellamy crosses his arms over his chest.

“Clarke…”

“You offered me a beer the last time I was here,” she says sweetly. “I don’t particularly like beer but I’d like a drink.”

Bellamy looks at her for a moment and maybe he’s realizing that the no-drinking rule is kind of unfair, or maybe it’s the fact that with how Clarke is looking at him he’d probably kill a man if she asked, but Bellamy eventually sighs deeply and opens the cabinet over the microwave and pulls out a bottle of Maker’s Mark and sets it on the counter.

“But no getting drunk. Neither of us need to be hungover at your parents’ house tomorrow.”

“Fair enough.” Clarke picks up the bottle and holds it against her chest, smiling again. “Now, I’ll take a Dr. Pepper.”

Despite himself, Bellamy smiles.

~

It takes twenty minutes for the pizza to cook but despite the fact that the two of them are basically about to have a twenty questions session, he doesn’t feel awkward. Maybe it’s the drink he’s been sipping on, or maybe it’s the fact that the two of them are actually friends and he’s about to have to act like he wasn’t going to have sex with her two months ago. 

He stops mid-movement. _Oh god. What if they think I took her virginity?_ He thinks about Gina and the fact that her mother nearly ran him out of the house when she caught them together, and a pit begins to form in his stomach. Clarke’s mother was already a lot to handle, so what would she do if she thought he was the one who—He shakes his head. _There’s no way they would know. Besides, they could think she already lost it or that she’s waiting until marriage_. Bellamy takes a deep breath. _Calm down_.

“I’m starving.” Clarke appears beside him and Bellamy looks down at her, stepping to the side a little so their arms don’t touch. It doesn’t make sense, but he feels like if they were to touch it would burn his skin. Especially with what he’s feeling right now. “Do you have a pizza cutter?”

Her question pulls Bellamy out of his head and moves to grab it while Clarke gets a couple of plates for them. He doesn’t remember the last time he had oven-baked pizza, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t make his mouth water. He cuts the pizza quickly, trying his best to not pull the cheese with the cutter, and then he and Clarke are each grabbing two slices and making their way back to his couch where their drinks are waiting on the coffee table. 

“So, what’s your favorite food?” Clarke asks as she picks up her first piece, and Bellamy looks over at her.

“I’ll eat pretty much anything. Fast food is kind of my friend at the moment.”

“Yeah, living on campus has me the same way. My crutch right now is the food truck near the engineering building.” She looks at him out of the corner of her eye. “Their chipotle bacon burger is going to be my downfall.”

Bellamy laughs a little, picking up a slice of pizza for himself. “Maybe I’ll have to check it out one day.”

“We could get lunch together. If you want,” she adds hastily, and it makes Bellamy smile even more. 

“Yeah, we should.” He takes a bite of his pizza and turns his attention to the T.V. that’s playing an episode of _Friends_. _This isn’t as awkward as I thought it would be._ He takes a sip of his drink and leans back into the cushions, resting his foot on the coffee table. “What’s your favorite color?”

Clarke smiles. “Sea green. Or blue. Depends on the day.”

“I like blue, too.”

“Growing up my mom put me in a lot of blue because it brought out my eyes.” Clarke reaches over and grabs her drink, too. “Where did you go to school?”

“I went to Dutchtown, nearly an hour away from here. You know I didn’t go to college. You?”

Clarke shifts in her seat. “Arkadian Private,” she whispers, and Bellamy laughs.

“Of course, you did.”

“Okay, but I didn’t have a say in it.” Clarke scowls at him and Bellamy laughs a little more.

“I figured, but it goes to show why we’re sitting here right now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You went to a private school and probably grew up in a gated community with no crime where all the houses are at least half a million a piece.”

“So?” Clarke’s eyes harden as she looks at him, and even though Bellamy is pretty sure she is actually getting upset.

“So, I was just making a statement.” Bellamy lifts a shoulder then takes another bite of his pizza. “What’s your favorite movie?”

 _That_ leads to a long discussion, in between eating their pizza, about how there is no way someone can just choose _one_ movie. Clarke argues that there are different genres that have to be considered and Bellamy admits that, above all, _Midnight in Paris_ is probably his favorite movie above everything.

“What’s that?” 

Bellamy blinks. “ _What’s that?_ ” He echoes. “You’ve never seen it?”

Clarke shakes her head, her eyes a little wide over the rim of her glass. “Okay, change of plans.” Bellamy gets up and makes his way to his movie collection and pulls out the Blu-Ray disc and slips it into his PlayStation before making his way towards the kitchen to grab the bottle of liquor. 

“Never seen _Midnight in Paris_ where has she been? Under a rock?” Bellamy mutters under his breath, and he can hear Clarke shift on the couch behind him.

“I can hear you!”

“I know.” Bellamy grins as he picks up the bottle and the smile doesn’t leave his face as he makes his way back to the couch. “What else haven’t you seen?”

“I don’t know anything about the Ocean’s movies aside from the fact that they have Leonardo DiCaprio,” she says as he pours them each another drink, and Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her.

“Seriously?”

Clarke shrugs, hugging a pillow against her chest as she looks at him, and _god_ maybe he shouldn’t be having another drink right now. He hands her one of the glasses and picks up the other, then he sits back down in his spot as the intro music begins to play for the movie. “It seems like we have a lot of movie nights ahead of us,” he says softly, and even in the dark of the room Bellamy can see her blush.

~

As they watch the movie, Bellamy can’t help but keep looking over at Clarke to see what she’s thinking, or how she’s reacting, and he really can’t stop himself from smiling when she begins to agree with Owen Wilson during the art museum visits and when she grumbles, “Pretentious asshole,” anytime Michael Sheen opens his mouth. 

He watches her almost as much as he watches the movie, and when it’s over Clarke lets out a soft sigh as she leans back onto the cushions. “He still cheated on his fiancé, and that’s terrible, but I think I fell in love with that movie,” she says, and Bellamy looks at her.

“You liked it that much?”

“Mhm.” Clarke’s eyes are bright as she stares at the rolling credits. “It makes me want to paint.” She whispers it, almost like she’s still wrapped up in the story, and it reminds Bellamy of the way he felt after the first time he watched it in high school.

“Can we watch another movie?” She asks after a moment, and Bellamy smiles at her a little. 

“What do you want to watch?”

Clarke leans her head back against the back of the couch and it lulls to the side as she looks at him. “How long are the Ocean’s movies?”

So, Bellamy puts on _Ocean’s Eleven_ and another round of drinks is poured, but this time he stretches out on the couch with his feet near Clarke’s torso and she does the same. Though her feet barely reach his hips. 

“What’s your favorite book?” Bellamy asks after a moment, and Clarke looks from the T.V. to him, her arm tucked behind her head.

“I don’t know.” Her eyebrows furrow together for a moment. “I remember liking _Paint by Magic_ when I was in middle school, but I don’t remember much of it. You?” She takes a sip of her drink, her blue eyes never leaving his face.

“I like the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_.”

Clarke’s face scrunches up. “Why?”

Bellamy gives her a lopsided grin. “My mom used to read it to me when I was young. Apparently my dad really liked it.” There’s an ache in his chest at the mention of his dad but it’s been that way for years. Except, he pushes it away as he thinks about his little sister. “My mom let me name Octavia after Octavian.”

Clarke raises her eyebrows. “You named your sister after a Roman emperor?”

He shrugs. “My middle name is Augustus.”

Her jaw drops and Bellamy stills, waiting, until Clarke laughs. “ _Augustus?”_

“Yeah.” Now, Bellamy likes his name, even his middle name, but for some reason he’s blushing at Clarke laughing at it and he doesn’t know why. “I like it.”

Clarke still grins as she looks at him, but she stops laughing, her eyes rolling over him. “It suits you.”

 _Now_ , his face is definitely feeling hot, and he knows it’s not from the alcohol. “It does?”

“For someone who likes history as much as you, why wouldn’t you have the name of a Roman emperor and name your sister after the same one?” Clarke nudges him with her foot. “You’re dorky.”

He wants to argue with her, but he can’t. He’s always been obsessed with mythology and history and when he was growing up he can’t remember how many times he got teased for it, but Octavia takes after him and now his love for history is just a part of him. 

“Jaha is going to have a field day with you,” she says softly, bringing Bellamy out of his head. 

“You think?”

“Uh-huh. He’s a history buff, too. My dad will probably enjoy talking to you about your construction work.”

“Then what am I supposed to talk to your mom about?”

“She’s going to interrogate you.”

 _Yeah, I figured._ Bellamy tilts his head back and drowns the rest of his drink. “So, what exactly am I walking into tomorrow?”

The corners of Clarke’s mouth turn down and her fingers play with the rim of her glass. “It’s my mom’s annual fall dinner. It usually involves her coworkers from the hospital and my dad’s friends from his job. Jaha is always there and a few old family friends from my mom’s side. It’s not black tie, but it’s usually higher-end. It’s kind of a lead up to the Christmas fundraiser.”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her. _God, I need another drink_. “Right into the lion’s den,” he mutters, and Clarke sits up, hugging a pillow as she looks down at the brown liquid in her cup.

“It’s a lot, I know, but…” she looks from the glass to him, the light of the T.V. casting a shadow on one side of her face, “if you don’t want to go then I understand.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to go, but I figured when you said “get together” it would be your mom, dad, godfather, and Wells. Not them and all of their friends.”

“I guess I kind of undersold it,” she whispers.

“You think?”

When she looks at him, she’s pouting, and Bellamy reaches out and squeezes her ankle. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

Clarke eyes him warily and then she downs the rest of her drink before setting the empty glass onto the coffee table. “Okay, so, Jaha will talk forever about politics…”

~

For the rest of the night, Bellamy listens to Clarke talk about the people she’s grown up around and he asks questions about some of them, trying to keep a mental note of who is who and what he should do when he meets them. For the most part, it seems like everyone he’s going to meet aside from Clarke’s mom, dad, and godfather aren’t going to be as important, but the thought of meeting her mom kind of freaks him out.

At some point, Clarke falls asleep during _Ocean’s Thirteen_ and even though Bellamy finds himself falling asleep, he forces himself to get off the couch and then he wraps Clarke up in his arms and walks towards his room. He toes the door open and makes his way through the room in the dark then places her onto the mattress. She mumbles something in her sleep that Bellamy can’t make out, and then he pulls the blankets over her.

“Bed?” She asks, and the corner of Bellamy’s mouth turns up.

“Yeah, you’re in bed.”

“No.” Her face scrunches up but her eyes are still closed. “You.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“Umph.” Bellamy watches as Clarke rolls over onto her stomach and then she’s snoring slightly, and he shakes his head before making his way back out into the hallway.

He grabs the blanket from the back of the couch and turns on the actual T.V. rather than having it on his PlayStation, and he turns onto his side and huddles under the blanket. He’s exhausted, and he doesn’t necessarily like sleeping on his couch, but sleep doesn’t wait to try and pull him under.

 _Tomorrow will be fine_ , he whispers silently to himself. _Don’t worry about it_.

And as he falls asleep, his mind drifts to Clarke and the sight of her in his bed, and Bellamy pushes the thought of climbing in beside her away as he hugs one of his couch pillows to his chest and slips into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a feeling that Clarke isn't going to make it easy for him tomorrow
> 
> I hope you liked it!  
> Xx

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on...
> 
> Tumblr: xxawalkinwonderlandxx  
> Twitter: awalknwonderlnd


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